


Onnogata (by BaileyMoyes on LJ)

by Dariuchka



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-02
Updated: 2006-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24627733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dariuchka/pseuds/Dariuchka
Summary: This is an Eastern as opposed to a Western.  The year is 1729, but Japan is still a feudal society much like medieval Europe.  Minor kings called shoguns rule from their palaces with their personal armies.  Society is tiered in rigid castes with myriad strictures defining acceptable behavior.  It is a culture of contrasts best exemplified by the samurai who are sensitive poets as well as fierce warriors.  In 1629 the ruling shogunate banned women from performing on the stage leading to the rise of the onnagata, men that portrayed female characters.  Into this world comes a Westerner, a Dane who crafts weapons as his calling, seeking knowledge to further his art.
Relationships: Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One  
Vigorli a/u  
Rating: PG13  
Summary: This is an Eastern as opposed to a Western. The year is 1729, but Japan is still a feudal society much like medieval Europe. Minor kings called shoguns rule from their palaces with their personal armies. Society is tiered in rigid castes with myriad strictures defining acceptable behavior. It is a culture of contrasts best exemplified by the samurai who are sensitive poets as well as fierce warriors. In 1629 the ruling shogunate banned women from performing on the stage leading to the rise of the onnagata, men that portrayed female characters. Into this world comes a Westerner, a Dane who crafts weapons as his calling, seeking knowledge to further his art.  
<@>+<@>+<@>+<@>+<@>+<@>+<@>  
  


“Magnificent,” Viggo breathed, as he lifted the sword from its rack.

“The finest steel in all Japan,” Keanu agreed. “Was that not what you wished to see?”

“Aye,” Viggo said, still lost in wonder.

Keanu’s lips curved slightly as he watched his Western friend admire the katana. The Dane had such obvious reverence for the art of sword smithing that the Keanu had no qualms about showing the man the Cherry Blossom Sword.

The beautiful weapon and its mate, the wakizashi short sword, were the finest existing examples of the sword makers’ craft. The pair of blades, known as daisho, belonged to Keanu’s daimyo, or patron, and was kept in this shrine-like room with the lord’s suit of armor.

Keanu knew that his master did not share his tolerant attitude toward so-called white men, but Keanu could not deny Viggo this request. The Dane had traveled far through many difficulties just to gaze upon a legendary samurai sword. Viggo’s awe and delight were all the thanks Keanu required for taking this risk. And perhaps Keanu’s mixed blood led him to feel a certain kinship with the Westerner.

Viggo swept the gleaming length of steel through the air. “Absolutely magnificent,” he repeated. “I must learn the art.”

“I shall see what may be done,” Keanu said. “It will not be easy to persuade a master to teach someone… not of Japanese blood.”

Viggo nodded his understanding. Since coming to the East, the Dane had learned that most aristocratic Japanese saw him as a lower form of life. He had been fortunate to be in a position to help Keanu out of a difficulty and thus earn the young warrior’s gratitude. Otherwise, Viggo would never have had a chance of making his dream come true. Though he was one the most respected smiths in all Europe, his reputation meant nothing here.

“I am sorry to hurry you,” Keanu broke in on Viggo’s thoughts, “but we must go.”

Reluctantly, Viggo replaced the work of art on its rack, bowing slightly as he stepped away. It was hard to tear his eyes from the metal that shone like moonlight on still water and the exquisite details of the hilt and guard. The weapon was easily the most beautiful thing the Dane had ever beheld with his waking eyes.

“Come,” Keanu urged. “I will take you where you can feast your eyes on more swords.”

Viggo took a last look around at the weapons on the wall and the brightly lacquered suit of armor on its stand. Putting a hand on the hilt of his own blade, the Dane followed the young samurai from the paper-walled room. Servants bowed low as the two men passed them on their way to the front entrance of the daimyo’s smaller city palace.

“My master has given permission for you to wear your sword in public,” Keanu said, his tone making clear that this was a very great honor.

“Perhaps I shall have the opportunity to thank him,” Viggo answered.

Keanu nodded non-committally. He did not think that the shogun would grant the Westerner an audience. His master could barely tolerate Keanu. Were it not for his exemplary skill with bow, spear and blade, half-breed Keanu would be a masterless ronin, little better than a mercenary. Shuddering at the thought, the young warrior stepped into the road.

It was dusk and the low-lying rays of the setting sun illuminated the snowy blossoms of the fruit trees lining the avenue. Keanu paused to appreciate the profligate beauty before his eyes. Viggo waited in respectful silence until his guide moved again.

The Eastern warrior caste, or buke, was a strange blend of violence and artistry that fascinated Viggo. He had a lot of respect for a man who had mastered both the sword and the poem, the powers of creation as well as destruction. Most Western men would no doubt find these flower-arranging fighters feminine, but Viggo was not most Western men.

“Where are we going, Keanu-san?” Viggo asked as other pedestrians stood aside for them.

“I am taking you to a delight for the eyes and the ears,” Keanu replied. “Tonight you will see traditional kabuki.”

“And the swords?”

“There will be many,” Keanu assured his companion. “Kabuki is the chosen entertainment of the samurai. Many warriors will attend and you will be able to observe.”

“Are you certain I will be welcome?”

“It is a public performance,” Keanu said, “and you are my guest.”

“I am grateful,” Viggo said.

“Your gratitude is not necessary. If you had not arrived so fortuitously, I might have been forced to return to my daimyo in disgrace. Thanks to your skill with that straight blade, the package I carried for my master was not lost.”

“It was my pleasure to teach those ruffians a lesson about attacking a lone man,” Viggo said. “Though it seemed that you were holding your own against all five.”

“You are generous as well as gracious,” Keanu bowed from the waist. “Now let us see what delights the performers have in store for us.”

Viggo looked around with great interest as they entered the theater. Keanu and his guest were seated on large cushions and offered tea and rice wine. Keanu gave the attendant some small coins and the man left to tend to other patrons.

Viggo could not help but notice that the majority of the audience was warriors. They were dressed in flowing silk robes with sashes of various colors and patterns belting their wide-legged trousers. Through the sashes were thrust two sheathed swords, one long and one short, each blade a masterpiece of forging. Viggo could not turn his head without being impressed anew.

“You will hurt your neck,” Keanu joked gently.

Viggo smiled. “This is what happens when you set a child free in a sweet shop,” he said.

Keanu’s smooth brow puckered in middle. “What child?” he asked.

“It is just a figure of speech that we have in the West,” Viggo said. “It means I am delighted beyond my dreams.”

“Ah, that is good,” Keanu said. “You have attracted much attention.”

“I was trying not to notice,” Viggo replied. “I hope my presence will cause no difficulties for you, my friend.”

“I am not worried,” Keanu said. “Ah, the performance is about to begin.”

All eyes turned to the stage, which held several flowering trees in pots to represent a grove. A length of billowing blue silk with painted fish stood in for a stream. Music that sounded oddly hollow and attenuated to Viggo’s Western ears suggested the sounds of flowing water and birdsong. A collective sigh went up from the audience as a slender figure with floor sweeping blue-black hair appeared.

“We are fortunate,” Keanu whispered. “We will see the Dance of the Goddess Okuni performed by the most skilled onnagata in Kyoto. Perhaps in all Japan.”

Viggo gave his attention to the willowy performer in loose, layered kimonos whirling and gliding so elegantly across the platform. Floating layers of silk slid sinuously against the trim body moving so gracefully to the chiming music. Upraised arms in gauzy trailing sleeves veiled the onnagata’s face from the audience until the very end. As the song ended, the performer knelt in a deep backbend.

The Dane stared, transfixed by the sheer beauty of the face that was fully revealed at last. Though the eyes and eyebrows were strongly delineated in black and the bee-stung lips coated with poppy red against the blank white of rice powder, the dancer’s classic features could not be masked.

Viggo knew he was looking on the human equivalent of the Cherry Blossom katana. There could not be a more lovely face in all Creation. The audience seemed to be of the same opinion. Until two stagehands in black hurried forward with a silk screen, the onnagata was gently pelted with petals, blossoms and bouquets of peonies.

From where he sat, Viggo saw the enchanting performer sweep a few flowers up in one arm and then leave the stage behind the screen. The Dane turned to ask Keanu a question, but his companion was focused on something across the room. Feeling Viggo’s eyes on him, the warrior made an apology.

“Please forgive me. Do you mind if we go?”

Viggo was a bit disappointed. He was hoping to see the onnagata again, but reasoned that he could always return to the theater tomorrow evening. As they exited the theater, the sound of voices raised in anger drew their attention to the narrow road that bordered the building on east side. Several samurai had gathered at a side door and a man who obviously worked for the theater was insisting that they leave immediately.

“Idiot! I feared this might happen,” Keanu muttered and started toward the group.

Viggo followed on the warrior’s heels, his hand going automatically to the hilt of his sword. “What passes here?” the Dane asked as they advanced.

“The manager is trying to keep the samurai from coming backstage to compliment the onnagata. He is a fool to think he can dictate to men of the buke caste.”

“Why not bring the dancer out and let the samurai pay their respects?” Viggo asked.

“I am afraid they want to give the onnagata more than flowers and good wishes.”

Viggo frowned. “You’ll have to be plainer than that,” he said.

“Onnagata are dancers, singers and actresses,” Keanu said, “but they are also courtesans, keisei,the highest sexual prize a samurai may claim. Competition for their favors is fierce.”

Viggo recognized the word keisei: castle-toppler, one whose beauty causes great strife. “Ah,” Viggo said. “I see.”

However, he wished that he didn’t. The thought of that lovely, delicate creature extending physical favors to the strongest warrior disturbed the Dane on a level that was almost primal. Sternly, the man reminded himself that this was a different culture and he should not judge before hearing all the facts.

“Nakamura-san,” Keanu said as he stopped beside the richly dressed man in the doorway. “Why do you keep these warriors standing in the road?”

Reed-thin Nakamura bowed to Keanu. “You are Lord Watanabe’s man, are you not? Would the shogun countenance such brawling behavior? I say let these men become sober before foisting themselves on the artists.”

Keanu raised an eyebrow at the other samurai. “I know you,” he said. “Shagata, Masato and young Shin. Have you come drunk to pay your respects? Does this not bring shame upon you and your masters?”

The heavily built Shagata and Masato exchanged a bleary glance. The samurai that Keanu had not called by name drifted away toward the teahouse in the next road, but wiry Shin’s gaze never left Viggo. The young warrior stared belligerently into the Dane’s eyes. Keanu ignored Shin’s bad manners and turned again to Nakamura.

“Since there are now only three, will you permit them to enter?” Keanu asked.

The manager of the theater bowed his head. “Of course,” he said, standing meekly aside for the samurai.

“I am sorry, Nakamura,” Keanu said, “but you cannot keep them out. One day I shall come here and find you a grave man.”

Nakamura bowed to the young samurai. “You are a good buke,” the manager said. “You are welcome here at any time. Those men do not know what it means to be samurai.”

Keanu inclined his head, and looking up, caught Nakamura staring at the Dane. “This is my friend, Viggo Mortensen,” Keanu said. “He is a maker of weapons.”

Nakamura bowed deeply from the waist in respect. “An honor to have you in my humble establishment,” the manager said. “Please visit the House of the Jade Tree again.”

“That will be my pleasure,” Viggo said, surprising Nakamura with his unaccented Japanese.

“You speak very well, Mortensen-san,” Nakamura observed. “That is rare for a gaijin.”

“I have long wished to visit your country,” Viggo said. “I’ve had years to prepare.”

Nakamura bowed even more deeply and thanked Keanu again. After making them promise to return the next evening, the manager went back inside. Viggo returned with Keanu to the room they were sharing and prepared for bed. Keanu fell quickly asleep, but Viggo lay wakeful, his mind occupied by the play and its aftermath.

When the smith finally drifted off, his dreams were haunted by the onnagata’s face, and visions of what was under the mask of paint.

tbc


	2. Chapter Two: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See chapter one for detailed prologue.

A Viggo/Orlando a/u set in early 18th Century Japan.  
Rated PG13 for violence  
Summary: See chapter one for detailed prologue.  
This is a work of complete fiction.  
Beta'd by Piper  
<@>+<@>+<@>+<@>+<@>+<@>+<@>  


Chapter Two ~

Viggo pulled on his freshly polished knee boots and stood to don his jacket. The royal blue coat with its full skirt, silver embroidery and double row of pewter buttons was the finest garment he owned. It hid the threadbare waistcoat and the serviceable but hardly flattering shirt of undyed linen. The Dane didn’t question his impulse to appear his best this evening; he was just glad that the tight-fitting knee breeches, riding boots and blue velvet suited him.

Though he was decently covered, Viggo didn’t feel dressed until he’d buckled his sword around his slim hips. With its familiar weight on his left side, he was ready to go out.

Picking up his tri-corner hat, he strode out of the palace alone. He was disappointed that Keanu was not able to accompany him, but he knew the way to the theater and he did not care to miss tonight’s performance.

Nakamura, proprietor of Jade Tree House, greeted Viggo as an honored guest and led him behind the stage. At the Dane’s look of surprise, Nakamura hastened to explain.

“Tonight, the onnagata will give a special performance for a select audience,” the manager said. “You will have the pleasure of seeing the Renjishi, the Lion Dance. It is rarely performed due to the level of skill required, but I did not wish to refuse Masato-san’s request.”

Viggo remembered the name from yesterday. Masato was one of the samurai who seemed to upset Keanu so much. Though Keanu had shown few outward signs, Viggo had felt the young warrior’s disapproval of the men’s behavior.

“Come,” Nakamura said, holding aside a curtain of silk brocade.

Nakamura bowed and Viggo nodded to the three samurai lounging on cushions. It was indeed the trio of loudmouths from yesterday. The young one, Shin, eyed Viggo with overt antipathy as the Dane sat down several feet away, but the other two did not deign to notice the foreigner.

“I am sorry Keanu-san could not accompany you,” the manager said with genuine regret. “I hope you will enjoy the performance.”

Nakamura walked behind another curtain and the onnagata appeared. The dancer was dressed in tawny kimonos of rough raw silk and wore a wig that resembled a bronze chrysanthemum. The flickering lamplight caressed the lithe, agile body with fingers of light and shadow.

Viggo watched with appreciation as the performer leaped, stalked and spun in a pantomime of a hunting cat. The graceful, athletic movements of the dance were not only aesthetic, but also highly sensual and it was obvious that the performance was having an effect on the three inebriated warriors.

After a brief conversation with his friends, Shin got to his feet and took the dancer by the wrist. The onnagata froze in place as the other two samurai rose. As they approached the performer, Viggo heard them use a word he was not familiar with: hanamichi. It didn’t take the Dane long to puzzle out the meaning.

“Do not hold back, blossom,” Shagata said. “Show us your flowery path.”

Masato pawed at the performer, crudely fondling the shapely backside as Shagata grasped a handful of the kimono. As Shin’s pulled at the sash that belted the loose robe, Viggo stood. Perhaps this was commonplace behavior backstage, but the dancer did not seem to welcome the rough attention.

Before the Dane could speak, Shin ripped the sash from the kimono and tossed it aside. With a grinning leer, Shagata yanked the robe down the onnagata’s shoulders. Masato pulled the gown up in the back, exposing the dancer’s Heavenly Twins. All three looked surprised when the foreigner yanked the onnagata away from them.

“Stay behind me,” the Dane said as he began backing away.

Alerted by a musician fleeing the incipient violence, Nakamura returned. The manager pulled the dancer out of the room and turned to face the samurai. Viggo held his weapon ready, but the drunken warriors were still stunned by the sudden turn of events.

“Take Orli away from here,” Nakamura begged the Dane. “I can calm them down if they know he is out of their reach.”

Viggo nodded. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“I have done this many times,” Nakamura said wearily. “I wish Orli would choose one of them and put an end to it.”

“I’ll make sure the onnagata is safe,” Viggo promised. “Good luck, Nakamura-san.”

“And to you as well,” Nakamura said as the gaijin walked away with the most coveted courtesan in Kyoto.

#<>#<>#<>#<>#<>#<>#<>#<>#<>#

As Viggo headed for the side door, he heard shouting behind him. He started to turn, but a soft hand slipped into his and drew him down the hall. The onnagata opened the door as the Dane glanced over his shoulder and saw Masato.

The burly samurai’s katana was dripping red on the wooden floor. Behind Masato came Shagata and Shin. Much as it galled Viggo to run, he had promised to take the dancer to safety, and that must be his priority.

Leaping through the doorway, he pulled the performer down the road. As he made an immediate right and dodged between two private residences, he heard shouts from behind. Resisting the impulse to turn, he stopped beside a shoulder-high stone wall.

“Up and over,” Viggo said, making a stirrup of his hands.

To the Dane’s surprise, the onnagata jumped to the top of the wall with a flash of long legs and dropped lightly onto the other side. Shaking his head, Viggo hurried to join his charge and found they were in an exquisite formal garden. He wished he had time to admire the shrubs like green sculptures and expanses of sand and gravel raked into intricate patterns.

Closing his eyes to the elegant beauty, Viggo headed for the opposite wall with the onnagata at his heels. After a cautious look over the barrier, Viggo hauled himself up and reached down a hand to the dancer. Again, his help was spurned. Viggo gave a mental shrug as he looked up and down the narrow street before jumping to the ground.

“This way,” he said as the onnagata joined him.

Viggo led them to Lord Watanabe’s palace by a roundabout route that kept them off the major thoroughfares. He was trying hard to forget the glimpse he’d gotten of well-shaped legs, but the vision kept floating back into his mind in a most distracting manner.

The Dane considered himself the master of his body. He was not given to excesses in food, drink or any other physical activity. He ruled his passions; they did not rule him. Why then was it so hard for him to disregard the onnagata’s charms?

“You will be safe here,” Viggo said as they reached the daimyo’s residence.

Viggo called out to one of the shogun’s retainers. The warrior pushed away from the pillar he was leaning on and stared at the Dane and his companion. Another samurai stepped from the shadows of the porch to see what the commotion was and froze when he caught sight of the visitors.

“Where is Keanu?” Viggo asked the dumbfounded guards.

The older samurai answered. “He is with the daimyo,” the man said, not mentioning the onnagata despite his intense curiosity. “Shall I inform him that you wish to see him?”

“Yes,” Viggo said. “We’ll come with you.”

“Ah, Mortensen-san,” the samurai said. “I cannot allow a performer into Lord Watanabe’s home. If the Lady of the house ever found out, we would all have to commit seppuku.”

Viggo frowned. He knew the sober-faced guard was probably joking about ritual suicide, but not about the rules of the house.

“This is my guest,” the Dane said firmly. “I will take responsibility.”

Both warriors bowed slightly in acknowledgement of this gaijin’s bravery.

“I will take them to the daimyo,” the younger one offered.

At the entrance to the lord’s private rooms, a servant took charge. The samurai bowed again as he left Viggo and the onnagata. The servant showed them to a small, comfortable room and bade them wait. While Viggo pondered how best to explain his predicament to the shogun, the dancer sank onto a cushion and removed the lion’s mane wig.

Long loose curls like unraveling tassels of dark silk were freed to frame the performer’s flawless face. Though the sculpted features were still masked by paint and powder, the graceful symmetry of them tugged at Viggo’s heart. Annoyed at himself for his weakness, Viggo looked at the floor as he spoke.

“You’ve not said a word this whole time. Can you speak?”

“If my lord wishes it,” the dancer said in a soft voice that caressed the ears.

“Well who is your lord so we can ask him?” Viggo replied.

Eyes as deep and dark as the spaces between the stars looked into the Dane’s. Time stopped for a brief eternity as Viggo absorbed the impact of that potent stare.

“Do you joke with me?” the onnagata broke the spell.

Viggo did not get to voice an answer. The door slid open and a kneeling maidservant gestured for them to come with her. The Dane got his thoughts in order as he stepped into the daimyo’s audience chamber in his stockinged feet. The onnagata followed in Viggo’s shadow, soft-footed as a cat. Viggo looked to Keanu and the grave expression on his friend’s face warned him.

Viggo bowed deeply to the imposing man sitting on a slightly raised dais. “Lord Watanabe,” he said respectfully. “Forgive me for bringing confusion to your house.”

The daimyo carefully kept his eyes from straying toward the dancer. “What is the meaning of this disrespect?” he asked mildly.

Viggo was not fooled by the gentle tone. “I meant no disrespect, my lord,” he said. “My help was sought and I gave it. If I have violated the rules of polite behavior, I will bear the burden of atonement and count the cost cheap. I could not allow another to come to harm because of my inaction.”

The daimyo inclined his head slightly. “Spoken like a warrior,” he said. “However, while I admire your spirit, I cannot allow you to bring shame to my house.”

“Shame?” Viggo’s frown deepened.

“I will let your friend explain matters to you,” Lord Watanabe said. “I am sorry but I cannot allow this… entertainer to remain under my roof.”

Viggo bowed curtly. “I find much to admire in your culture,” he said, “but I cannot let rules of etiquette outweigh my compassion. I thank you for your hospitality, my lord. I shall take the onnagata and seek other lodgings.”

Keanu came to stand by Viggo, further blocking the onnagata from the shogun’s sight. “Come, Viggo-san,” he said. “I know a place.”

tbc


	3. Chapter Three: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

Pairing: V/O Rating: PG Warning: Nope  
Disclaimer: This a work of complete fiction.  
Thank you, Piper  
A/N: See chapter one for prologue.  
\V/X\V/X\V/X\V/X\V/X\V/X\V/  


“What beautiful country,” Viggo said looking across the open fields that bordered the moon-silvered river.

“I hope you will be comfortable,” Keanu said. “No one has lived here since my grandfather died. He insisted on working this farm until he fell face down in the furrow he’d just finished plowing.”

Viggo eyed the orchard gone wild, but still bearing fruit. “I think we’ll be fine here until I figure out what to do with her.”

Keanu looked at his friend oddly, as Viggo jerked a thumb at the small stone farmhouse.

“Viggo-san,” Keanu said slowly. “Why do you still refer to the onnagata as her?”

Thinking he had mispronounced a Japanese word, Viggo tried again.

Keanu fought with his grin and lost. “Do you truly not know the onnagata is a boy?”

Viggo’s face revealed his astonishment and caused the first full-bodied laughter the Dane had heard since he’d come to the Orient.

“Ah,” Keanu sighed, wiping his eyes. “I should not laugh. The onnagata is very skilled. If I did not know he was male, I would not guess.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Women do not perform on stage,” Keanu said. “It is not honorable. Over one hundred years ago the ruling shogunate banned females from the theater. So we have the tradition of the onnagata: a man who acts the part of a woman.”

“Very convincing,” Viggo muttered. “Would you try to talk to her… him before you go? I haven’t been able to get more than a dozen words out of… him.”

“Of course,” Keanu said. “Orli,” he called. “I would speak with you.”

Viggo’s eyes widened as the dancer came out into the lantern light. Now that Orli had removed his wig and washed his face, it was obvious that he was a young man. However, he was no less lovely as he glided to a stop in front of the samurai and stood with bowed head.

“Orli,” Keanu said. “This man is Viggo Mortensen, a white samurai. Do you understand?”

“Hai,” the performer affirmed in a voice as soft as falling cherry blossoms. “I can see that he is a noble warrior.”

“You know what he has done for you?” Keanu inquired.

“Hai,” Orli said, but Keanu continued speaking as if he had not answered.

“Viggo-san risked his life and his reputation to say nothing of the shogun’s anger to defend your honor. Does this seem a fair bargain to you?”

Though the boy did not raise his eyes, Viggo saw the fire that flashed briefly in the dark depths. “I did not call for help,” the dancer said evenly.

“Because you knew that you should submit,” Keanu said firmly.

“Yes, noble lord,” Orli said from between clenched teeth.

“But you did not and now here we are,” Keanu said. “Viggo-san had to leave the shogun’s palace to live in this cottage. As for you, what have you gained by your pride and your stubbornness? Nakamura is dead and his theatre will be closed. You dare not return for your belongings. You have no place, no possessions and no home.”

“Keanu,” Viggo broke in. “I think you’ve made your point, my friend.”

“You think I am needlessly cruel,” Keanu said, “but truly I am attempting to help this lovely but misguided creature. We all have a station and a role to fill in this life. Unless Orli learns to accept his place, he will never have harmony.”

“No matter his place, he has the right to be treated with simple human dignity,” Viggo said.

“It was good of you to aid this unfortunate,” Keanu avoided addressing the Dane’s last comment. “However, you are not honor-bound to continue.”

“That is not so, noble warrior,” Orli said in his snowflake voice.

“What do you mean, saya?” Keanu said curtly, shocked that the dancer would speak without being spoken to first.

Again, Viggo saw fire in the boy’s eyes before it was veiled. ‘Saya.’ The swordsmith knew this word well; it meant scabbard or sheath. It occurred to the Dane that the term was an insult as Keanu had used it, much the way a European might say trollop or whore.

Orli’s voice was as serene as an unruffled lake at dawn, giving away none of the anger that Viggo sensed roiling just below the tranquil surface. “Ask him if he did not say he would take responsibility for me,” the onnagata all but whispered.

Keanu head spun, his wide eyes focusing on Viggo in astonishment. “Did you say this?”

Viggo nodded. “I did say those words,” he said. “When we entered the palace, I told the gate guards that I would accept responsibility for bringing the onnagata with me.”

Keanu closed his eyes for a long moment before opening them again. “You could not know what you were agreeing to,” the samurai said. “I am certain the shogun will release you from any debt of honor.”

“Perhaps you should tell me what we’re talking about,” Viggo suggested.

“If you hold to your words, and the onnagata accepts, you must care for him as you would a concubine or a wife. Do you really wish this responsibility, Viggo-san?”

“Do I have to decide right now?”

“I think that you already have,” Keanu said, his voice flat with disapproval.

“I’d like to talk to the onna… to Orli first,” the Dane said.

“I will return in the morning, if my daimyo gives me leave,” Keanu said. “That should give you time for all the ‘talking’ you might desire.” The samurai bowed. “Goodnight, chijin.”

Keanu mounted his horse and took up the reins of the one that Viggo and Orli had ridden. The animals belonged to the shogun and no matter how much Keanu wanted to leave one here, he owed obedience to Lord Watanabe.

Viggo turned from watching Keanu ride away and saw the dancer reaching up to pluck a plum from one of the trees in the overgrown orchard. The bright moonlight limned the clean profile and the long, sweet line of the boy’s throat as he looked upward, searching for ripe fruit. The Dane reminded himself that the onnagata was a trained performer and looked away from the provocative sight.

Orli walked back to where the gaijin stood and offered the man a plum. When Viggo declined, the young man sat on the low stone wall and bit into a dark purple globe. The Dane refused to watch the no-doubt-calculated, sensual display.

“Do you wish my protection?” Viggo got to business without preamble. “You may speak freely. There is only me here to mark what you say and I am gaijin.”

“As your actions led to the loss of my home and my livelihood, I would say that your protection is the least you can give me,” the onnagata said.

“So you do have a sharp side to your tongue,” Viggo said.

“You bade me speak freely,” the boy reminded.

“That I did,” Viggo said. “If it is true that I have wronged you so grievously then I owe you much indeed and you need not fear that I will shirk my duty to you. I will begin making amends by apologizing, but in truth I could have acted no differently.”

Orli lowered his eyes again. “I accept your apology,” he said.

“Tell me one thing,” Viggo said. “Would you have… given satisfaction to those samurai had I not interfered?”

The onnagata’s neck bent like the slender stalk of a drooping flower. “I would have tried,” he said in a voice so soft that Viggo had to lean closer to hear it.

The young man drew back from the foreigner and overbalanced. As Orli tipped backward, Viggo seized his wrist and pulled him upright. The Dane released the dancer as soon as there was no danger of him falling off the wall, and the onnagata recoiled.

“I’ll not harm you,” Viggo said sincerely. “And I’ll not let anyone else harm you. Come inside now. It’s getting cold out here.”

Once inside the small cottage, Orli took over the building and lighting of the fire. From the saddlebags Keanu had left and the cabinets in the dwelling, the young man assembled the means to make tea.

In a few minutes, a pot of water simmered on the hearth and Orli added leaves that wafted a delicate, refreshing scent into the stale air. Viggo took the small clay cup the boy offered and inhaled the steam coming off the surface. Cautiously, he took a sip of the hot drink.

“This is quite good,” Viggo said. “Thank you.”

Orli inclined his head. “I am glad you like it.”

“Are you? Or is that just what you’re supposed to say?”

“Do you still wish me to speak honestly?”

“Yes, please,” Viggo replied.

“You are right. I do not really care if you like the tea or not,” Orli said. “However, I was trained to serve a certain class of man. If I do not please you, you must tell me.”

“You don’t have to please me,” Viggo said.

The boy’s face said he didn’t believe this foreigner for a minute.

“Who were your mother and father?” the Dane asked in a conversational tone.

Dutifully, the onnagata answered the warrior’s question. “My mother told me that my father was a merchant from a city called Venice, a nobleman’s son who saw her in her father’s tavern and swayed her with his handsome face and his desire to learn Japanese.”

“This does not sound as if it will have a happy ending,” Viggo said.

“He left her,” Orli said. “He went home without a word before she knew she was with child. He did not know that her family disowned her. He did not know that she had no way to earn food but by selling her body. He did not know that she would have to give me to Nakamura-san because she was dying on the streets.”

The boy cut off the flow of bitter words, clenching his hands into fists under the cover of his long sleeves. His face smoothed out to a placid, pleasant mask.

“I’m sorry,” Viggo said.

“Drink your tea before it gets cold,” the onnagata said softly.

Viggo sat back against the wall beside the hearth and watched Orli move about the cottage performing various small domestic tasks. The boy could not make a move that was not elegant and eye pleasing. The thought of the years of practice behind such artless grace saddened the Dane, considering the performer’s youth. Orli must have been a very young child when his training had begun.

“Let me help with that,” Viggo said, when Orli began to turn the unwieldy sleeping pallet.

“I do not need help,” the young man said, flipping the thick pad. “I will be finished in a moment and you can lie down.”

“I think not,” Viggo said. “You will sleep here and I will sleep quite well by the hearth if I may have one of those blankets.”

Orli’s eyes narrowed in consternation. “I thought we would share the mattress after I bring it closer to the fire.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because it will be warmer and more comfortable for both of us.”

Viggo could not refute the truth of the young man’s words. “As long as you understand that I expect nothing from you beyond the warmth of your body.”

Orli smiled for the first time since Viggo had clapped eyes on him. “You are so strange,” the onnagata said. “It is not just your pale hair or your blue eyes like a dog’s; you say the most unexpected things. People must be very different where you are from.”

Viggo chuckled at the understatement. “Perhaps you shall see how different one day.”

Orli looked inquiringly at the man.

“I’ll not stay in Japan forever,” Viggo said. “If it is your choice, I shall take you with me. I hope that will not be until I have learned to forge steel as your smiths do, and that will take no little time. I will provide for you as long as you wish it.”

“Why?” Orli asked, as he began deftly unbuttoning Viggo’s jacket. “You do not want me as those other samurai wanted me.”

“That is not quite true,” Viggo said candidly. “However, I am not the sort to force myself on anyone. Why can’t you believe that I do this simply because I believe it to be right?”

“Because men with that sort of honor exist only in romantic plays,” the onnagata said and made himself go on with the difficult speech. “And you would not be forcing yourself on me. What I offer is out of gratitude. I did not wish to lay with those disgraceful drunkards. I am glad you came to my aid and I would thank you.”

“It is a handsome offer,” Viggo said. “I hope you will extend the courtesy again at some later date, but I have no wish to take advantage of the circumstances we find ourselves in.”

The boy looked away before Viggo could decipher the enigmatic expression on his perfect face. Pulling the thin kimono tightly around him, Orli day down on the pallet, facing away from the fire.

Viggo felt a sharp pang in his heart as he imagined the training that would make one believe one existed solely as a convenience. To have the knowledge that one was subservient so deeply ingrained that it was second nature. The Dane made a resolution to remember this when he became impatient with the onnagata.

“Come,” Viggo said. “Lie closer to the hearth. I do not wish to be kept awake by your shivering.”

Orli did as the man bade him, pulling the blankets over both of them. “You may sleep closer,” the young man said, “if your honor will allow it.”

Only because it was the sensible thing to do in light of the plummeting temperature, Viggo pressed himself against the onnagata’s back and draped an arm loosely around the young man’s chest. The Dane was immediately aware of just how fit the boy was. The flowing gowns the dancer wore gave no hint of the lean hard muscles underneath.

Viggo tried to compose his thoughts on the day, as he did each night before falling asleep. Tonight however, it proved impossible. Each time the Dane tried to focus, he became aware of the sweet, clean scent that rose from his bedfellow. The alluring aroma teased the man’s nostrils and sent a subtle signal to his lower regions.

Viggo sighed softly and shifted so that his groin no longer touched the onnagata’s buttocks. The Dane was not pleased by his lack of control, but it happened to even the best of men at the worst of times. Giving up on his attempt to form some sort of plan for the morrow, Viggo let his mind drift until it drifted into dreams.

tbc


	4. Chapter Four: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

A Viggorli a/u rated PG13. No warnings for this chapter.  
Disclaimer: This is a work of complete ficiton.  
Thanks to Piper.  
@#\%#\@#\%#\@#\%#\@

When Viggo woke, the sun was up and the smell of mint tea filled the cottage. The boy was nowhere in sight as the Dane walked outside to find a secluded spot to relieve himself. He stepped behind a screen of the untended fruit trees and emptied his bladder with a grateful sigh. As he buttoned his pants, he saw movement on the periphery of his vision.

The onnagata emerged from the river like a naiad surfacing. The young man shook water from his long hair and used his kimono to dry his gleaming flesh.

Viggo knew it was unseemly to gaze on the other’s nakedness from hiding, but he did not make his presence known. He melted back into the foliage and returned to the cottage. He might as well have stayed and looked his fill for the image of the onnagata’s smooth skin and shapely limbs was forever burned into the Dane’s memory.

“You should not stray on your own,” Viggo said when the boy came back.

“We are alone here,” Orli said reasonably.

Viggo bit back his next words. What was this dread? Why did he feel as if imminent danger loomed over the boy like a storm cloud? From whence sprang this desire that was nearly a compulsion to protect the onnagata?

Instead of reinforcing his warning, Viggo changed the subject. “Have you reached a decision?” he asked. “My offer to you still stands, but if you have friends or relatives you would rather stay with, I will take you to them.”

“Do I still have your leave to speak freely?” the young man asked.

“Yes, a thousand times yes!” Viggo exclaimed, exasperated with constantly giving his permission. “I wish you to speak your mind always.”

The onnagata’s eyebrows rose. “If that is what you wish,” he said. “I am not stupid. I know that I need a protector. To wander on my own would be to invite all manner of trouble. However, I do not wish to feel as if I had snared you by less than honorable means.”

“Why don’t we make a bargain?” Viggo said. “I will care for you for as long as you wish me to. If you are not pleased with me, you may choose another… patron.”

Orli quickly looked down to hide the smile that bloomed on his bewitching lips. “Patron,” he repeated. “I find your proposal interesting. What would I do for your patronage?”

“What would you like to do?” Viggo turned the question back on the young man.

“Traditionally, I would have my own apartment that you would visit when you wished a change from your wife. I would cook your favorite foods for you and entertain you with your favorite songs and stories. I would wear only the colors you found pleasing and never disagree with your opinions. I would pleasure you in whatever way you found most arousing.”

“And what would you do when I was not there?”

“Traditionally, I would spend the remainder of my time improving myself so that I might better please you on your next visit.”

“Traditionally,” Viggo said, “that is called slavery, dress it up how you will. I do not keep slaves. If you wish to keep my house for me, I would be glad of it for I am hopeless at it and I haven’t a knack for hiring good servants. I would pay you a fair wage of course.”

Orli raised his eyes to the gaijin’s. “You offer me my dignity as if it were no more than a parasol to keep the sun from my skin. I want to believe you, but how can I?”

Viggo racked his brain for an oath that the onnagata would understand and give some weight to. Finally, he put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“I will swear on this weapon,” he said.

Orli’s front teeth caught at his lower lip as he pondered. “I accept,” he said at last.

Viggo smiled. “Now that’s settled, what are we having for breakfast?” he asked lightly, not really expecting an answer.

“Stewed plums and rice,” Orli said promptly.

“I think I got the better of this bargain,” Viggo commented as he followed the boy inside.

After they had broken their fast, Viggo took out his sword and polished away a few minor discolorations. Holding the blade up before his eyes, he let his gaze linger on his finest piece of work.

The steel was a full four feet from cross-guard to sharply tapered tip. The rather plain, leather-wrapped hilt was long so that the sword could be wielded two-handed if desired. Due to the length of the blade, it was counter-balanced by a heavy pommel that could be used as a club. The ends of the cross-guard were engraved in an intaglio of Nordic runes and knot work set off by black enamel.

“It is quite beautiful,” Orli said softly. “Did you make it?”

Viggo looked up. “Yes. I’m very proud of it.”

“Pride is no failing when deserved,” the young man said.

“Would you like to hold it?” the Dane asked.

“I could not,” Orli said.

“Is this another of your society’s rules?”

“I am not buke,” Orli said. “Only warriors may carry katana.”

Viggo stood and laid his sword aside. “Come with me,” he said and walked out of the cottage.

When he reached a level, open space, Viggo halted. A brief search yielded two fallen branches of a suitable length and diameter. Handing one to the puzzled boy, Viggo took a few steps backward.

“I’m going to teach you to fight,” the Dane said. “Do not argue with me and it will be over that much sooner. Raise your stick.”

Orli held his branch up in imitation of the swordsmen in plays.

“Very elegant,” Viggo said, “but utterly useless as a defense. Watch what happens.”

Viggo lunged suddenly, intending to come up under Orli’s guard and tap him on the chest with the end of his makeshift weapon. The Dane executed the move perfectly, but the onnagata was not where Viggo expected him to be. Orli had spun away as soon as the gaijin began moving and was now ending his arc behind the man’s back.

Viggo was not expecting the dance move, but he recovered quickly. He was no schoolroom fencing master; he had survived actual swordfights with men determined to separate him from his money, or his life. With a supple move, he had an arm around the onnagata’s neck and held the boy’s wrist immobile with his other hand.

Orli relaxed immediately, putting up no resistance, leaning slightly against the man’s chest. Viggo became aware of a growing warmth south of his navel and felt his manhood stir against his thigh. Instantly, the Dane released the onnagata.

“You’re very quick,” Viggo said. “If you are willing to invest the time, the effort and the pound of flesh this discipline requires, you could be a swordsman to be reckoned with.”

“No, I could not,” Orli said, handing his stick back to Viggo.

Viggo tried a new tack. “If you knew how to fight, I would not have to worry about you all the time.”

“I cannot.”

“What are you telling me? You would not fight? Not even if your life were at stake?”

Orli looked back down at the grass.

“Are you telling me you never get angry enough to do violence? Because that would be a lie. You were angry with those samurai at the theater and you were very angry with Keanu-san when he called you those names,” Viggo said.

“I am not a liar,” the boy said.

“You sound a bit upset,” Viggo prodded. “Are you sure you would not like to strike me?”

“No, I would not,” Orli said between gritted teeth.

“Of course you would, saya,” Viggo taunted the onnagata with Keanu’s insult.

At last, the fire was ignited in the young man’s eyes. Orli clenched his fists and fairly trembled with rage, but his voice was even when he replied.

“I am not a saya either.”

“What does it take to make you lose control, boy?” the Dane said in wonder.

Both turned at the sound of hoof beats and saw a rider approaching. As the horseman drew near, they recognized Keanu, leading two horses. The samurai leaped down from his mount and ran to where Viggo and Orli stood.

“I am disgraced,” Keanu said. “I have betrayed my daimyo.”

“How?” Viggo asked in dismay.

“The Cherry Blossom Sword is missing,” Keanu said. “Lord Watanabe has formed the opinion that the onnagata was a distraction that allowed the thieves to spirit the blade away. I told him that you would never be involved in such a plot, and he agreed with me. He believes you were duped as well and is sending men to bring the onnagata back to Kyoto.”

“There was no plot,” Viggo said. “Tell Lord Watanabe to look elsewhere for answers.”

“I know you are right, but we must be gone from here. The mercenaries are lazy, but even they will get here eventually.”

“Why would we not go back to Kyoto and face the shogun? We are innocent.”

“If you wish to return to Kyoto, I will go also and face the shogun with you. I think he would be lenient with us, but not the onnagata. Lady Watanabe is weary of hearing about the brawling at kabuki performances. She and her brother have convinced her husband to make an example of the dancer.”

“I’m afraid I cannot allow that,” Viggo said. “The boy is innocent and I’ve sworn to protect him.”

“That is why I brought three horses, Viggo-san. You might be able to ride double back to Kyoto, but I think we are going farther away than that,” Keanu said with a small smile.

“Why did Lord Watanabe send mercenaries?” Orli spoke, surprising Keanu.

“The shogun did not think this a suitable job for honorable warriors,” the young samurai said, looking at Viggo. “Lady Watanabe’s brother suggested he send mercenaries.”

“I suppose that’s when you decided to come and warn me,” Viggo surmised.

“The theories that the shogun’s brother-in-law spun seemed like the outpourings of a playwright with more imagination than skill,” Keanu said. “Nevertheless, I could see that Lady Watanabe was deeply offended and that the shogun would do her will in this.”

“You are right,” Viggo said, moving toward the horses. “We should leave now. Orli, can you ride?”

“Most assuredly not,” the boy replied serenely.

“You’re about to learn,” the Dane said. “Climb into the saddle.”

Orli clambered aboard the beautiful animal and Viggo pushed one of the boy’s feet into an ornately decorated stirrup. Orli followed the man’s example, sliding his other foot into the opposite stirrup as he looked down at the Dane for further instructions. Viggo took the young man’s hands and placed them on the pommel.

“Hold here,” the Dane said. “Grip the withers with your knees.” Viggo nudged Orli’s thigh for emphasis. “Don’t be afraid. Feel the rhythm of the horse’s muscles and move with him.”

Orli nodded and gripped the high pommel firmly.

“Do you want me to tie you to the saddle?” Viggo asked.

The onnagata shook his head. “I will not fall off,” the boy said.

“See that you do not,” Viggo said mock-sternly. “Who will cook my dinner if you’re injured?”

“Not that samurai friend of yours, that is for certain,” Orli said for Viggo’s ears alone. “Keanu-san would no doubt burst with indignation if you suggested he do women’s work.”

Viggo hid his smile when he turned toward Keanu. “We’re ready,” the Dane said.

The Westerner swung easily up to the saddle and took up the slack in the reins of Orli’s mount. Keanu nodded and wheeled his gelding toward the road. Viggo followed with the onnagata in tow.

tbc  



	5. Chapter Five: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

A Viggo/Orlando a/u, rated PG13.  
Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction.  
Thank you Piper.  
)X(O)X(O)X(O)X(  


Viggo did not question Keanu’s choice of direction until they stopped to rest and water the horses. While the onnagata stood quietly by, the warriors led the horses into the shallows of the river. Speaking loudly enough for the boy to hear, Viggo asked their destination.

“I thought we might go to my brother,” Keanu said.

“You have never mentioned a brother,” Viggo said in surprise.

“He has no love for me,” Keanu said. “However, we share a father and he will feel honor-bound to shelter me and those under my protection.”

Viggo frowned. “Perhaps it would be best if we took the boy to your brother and I returned to Kyoto. This does not sit well with me.”

“Why not return to Kyoto with evidence of your innocence?” Orli said, drawing nearer.

Still uncomfortable with the idea that the onnagata spoke whenever he wished, Keanu directed his comments to the Dane. “I believe that would be the wisest course, Viggo-san,” the samurai said. “To appear before the shogun with no proof would be honorable but nonetheless foolhardy. It pains me to say this, but the onnagata is right.”

Viggo stroked his horse’s neck, untangling a knot in the dark mane. “Does it bother you because you have to admit that your rigid code of honor doesn’t always work, or simply because the onnagata said it?”

“Both,” Keanu admitted. “I am not like you, my friend. I am not so… flexible.”

“Times change,” the Dane said.

“I pray I have the strength to change with them,” Keanu replied, “but we will see. First, let us go to my brother that we may have safe haven to lay our plans.”

Viggo nodded. “What sort of man is your brother?”

“Half-brother,” Keanu said. “He can not forget that our father sired me on a gaijin concubine. He will never let me forget it either. I thought it better that I take service with a daimyo far away from my brother’s home.”

“How far?” Viggo asked.

Keanu smiled. “He lives in the mountains a day’s ride from here. His home is far away in terms of distance above the ground.”

“Does he have a name?” the Dane inquired.

Keanu hesitated before he spoke again. “He is called Dancing Tiger for his fighting style, but among friends he is known as Jet for the black stone on the guard of his katana.”

Viggo’s eyes revealed his surprise. “Dancing Tiger is legendary,” the Dane said.

“A legendary criminal,” Orli said softly.

Keanu’s jaw tightened as he forestalled Viggo’s inevitable question. “It is true that Jet was a bandit, but he has forsaken that path.”

“I will take your word,” Viggo said to soothe Keanu’s wounded dignity, “and a former bandit will surely know how to deal with mercenaries if they should come calling.”

“We should make haste,” Keanu said. “I do not wish to take the mountain road after dark.”

Viggo patted his mount’s cheek. “These are fine, strong animals,” he said. “I think we could push them a bit more.”

“What of him?” Keanu pointed his chin at Orli.

“He’ll be fine. I’ve never seen anyone take to the saddle faster,” Viggo replied.

Keanu glanced at the boy and looked quickly away again. “Have a care, chijin,” the samurai said. “These performers have wiles that are near sorcerous. Enjoy him if that is your will; that is what he is for, but leave him in the bedchamber. And never forget that deception is a way of life for him.”

“Thank you for your care of me,” Viggo said sincerely. “I will be cautious.”

Keanu shook his head. “You will not,” he said with certainty, as he mounted his steed and turned its head north.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Viggo looked up at the last leg of the narrow switchback road and caught his breath. They had just rounded an outthrust buttress of the jagged chain of peaks and a mist wreathed rift was abruptly revealed. Directly to the left was a small fortress that rose in lonely splendor on a soaring spire of rock. An arching span of stone that could only be traversed single-file connected the castle to the road. With enough food and water, and supposing the enemy did not attack from the sky, the fortress looked unassailable.

The small party was allowed to approach the gate before they were challenged. A warrior with drawn bow called down to them from the top of the wall.

“What do you want here?” the guard asked, less than courteously.

“Tell Dancing Tiger that his kin stands outside his gate listening to the insults of ill-mannered servants,” Keanu replied.

“You may tell me yourself,” the warrior said.

In another moment, the heavy wooden gate swung open and a lithe figure garbed in black stood aside so that Keanu and his companions could enter. Hooves rang loudly on stone as they led their mounts into the high-walled courtyard. Their host closed the gate and turned to address Keanu.

“I know you would not come here unless you were in dire need and had nowhere else to turn,” the man said. “Tell me what trouble you have brought to my door.”

Keanu gave a short bow. “If you wish, we will leave.”

The warrior called Jet smiled bitterly. “You know I will not ask that. Now tell me, why are you traveling with a gaijin and this… rare blossom?”

“This is my friend, Viggo Mortensen, a maker of swords.”

Viggo saw Jet’s diamond black eyes thaw fractionally at the news that the foreigner was a smith. “I have been wrongly accused of a crime,” the Dane spoke up. “Because he is an honorable man, Keanu stood with me and has earned the wrath of his daimyo. We seek sanctuary until we may prove our innocence. Will you help us?”

Jet stared at the gaijin for a long moment before he turned back to Keanu. “So, little brother, you have become a ronin,” he said and smiled unexpectedly.

“Where are your retainers?” Keanu asked curiously as they walked into the shadowy main hall of the stronghold.

Jet laughed shortly. “It seems they did not relish the monastic life I have dedicated myself to. One by one, they found other means of earning their bread.”

“Are you alone here?”

“Not quite,” Jet said. “I still have my hawk, my hound and my horse. They are better company than many humans I have known. And the sorcerer is here, of course.”

“Lee is still with you?” Keanu asked, his shock patent. “He was approaching ninety when last I saw him. I cannot believe he is still alive.”

“Alive!” Jet snorted. “He is alive enough to cook my meals and help care for the animals.”

“I shall be glad to see him,” Keanu said. “He brightened many dark hours for me.”

Jet brought them to a sitting room and bade them be comfortable while he fetched tea. Orli bowed his head gracefully and offered to perform the task. As the dancer left, Jet’s eyes followed the sway of slim hips, and he raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

“The onnagata is accused of having a part in the crime,” Keanu said.

“Ah,” Jet sighed as if Keanu’s single sentence explained much that puzzled him. “He is lovely as a slender cherry tree laden with snowy blossoms. A man could drink poison from that mouth and call it nectar.”

Viggo frowned at the man’s words. Despite the lyrical phrasing of the comments, the Dane easily discerned the nature of the impulse that prompted them. Like Keanu, Jet saw the boy as an erotic object. The Dane was glad when Keanu launched into a detailed account of recent events.

Orli returned with a bamboo tray and poured tea into cups glazed pale green. Jet took his tea from the onnagata’s hand, letting his fingers brush the boy’s. Orli pulled his hand back and offered a cup to Viggo. Irritated by the way their host’s eyes lingered on the onnagata, Viggo interrupted Keanu’s narrative.

“Surely it’s obvious that Lady Watanabe wishes to cause trouble for her husband for reasons of her own,” the Dane said. “It was her brother that convinced the shogun that Orli and I were part of the plot.”

“Lord Kasuka no doubt honors his sister,” Jet said, “but to lie to Lord Watanabe… I cannot believe he would risk the shame if he were found out. Not simply for a woman’s whim.”

“They may have grievances that we know nothing of,” Viggo said.

“Lord Kasuka?” Orli murmured.

“That is the man’s name,” Keanu said before Jet could reprimand the onnagata.

“Is the noble lady’s brother sallow of face with greasy hair and an odor no amount of perfume can cover?”

Keanu’s lips twitched as he nodded his head. “You have described him perfectly.”

“He was a frequent visitor to the theater last season. It is odd that such a boasting sort did not mention his connection to the shogun,” Orli said.

“He stopped coming to the plays?” Keanu asked the pertinent question.

“I refused him,” Orli replied. “He did not care to watch me dance after that.”

Viggo exchanged a glance with Keanu and Jet. “And so we have another motive,” the Dane said. “Kasuka could have seen Orli entering the house. It would have been a simple matter for him to remove the sword and hide it somewhere.”

“He would have to be quick and careful. A katana is not an easy thing to conceal beneath one’s robes,” Keanu said.

“It is probably still in the palace,” was Jet’s conclusion.

“Very well then,” Viggo said with an air of satisfaction. “I shall return to the shogun and insist that he have his house searched from top to bottom.”

Keanu smiled. “May we at least rest here for the night?” he asked dryly.

Viggo smiled back. “Of course, my friend. You still have a wizard to visit, if I did not misunderstand the word.”

Keanu’s smile broadened. “Come with me and meet the old man,” he invited. “You will find him interesting.”

“You will find him in the smithy,” Jet said. “Do not worry about this flower. I will show him to chambers where he may rest.”

Viggo told himself that Keanu’s brother was an honorable man and that the boy would be fine in the warrior’s care and turned to go. He took two steps and stopped.

“I’d like Orli to come with us,” the Dane said.

“Then we shall all go,” Jet said, leading the way.

The sound of a mallet ringing on an anvil quickened Viggo’s heartbeat long before they reached the forge. A tall spare figure plunged a horseshoe into a wooden bucket, sending white wisps of steam into the air. The white-haired smith took the shoe in his leather-gloved hand and inspected it more closely.

“Old man,” Jet called out. “We have visitors.”

Lee looked up from his work and Viggo was struck by the depth of the ancient man’s dark eyes. Though the elderly smith’s hair and beard were silvery-white, two streaks of black outlined his mouth and hinted at the power that still resided in the aged brain and limbs.

After introductions, Viggo and Lee became immediately embroiled in a highly technical discussion of weapons and their manufacture. With a fond smile, Keanu sat and listened to his old teacher and his new friend bond like the resin and wood of a good bow. Jet drew Orli aside to look over the edge of the parapet.

“Allow me to make the offer of fresh clothing,” Jet said, watching the onnagata gaze down the sheer sides of the spire of rock.

“That is most generous,” the dancer replied.

“There are chests full of fabric and garments in a storeroom,” Jet said. “Spoils and remnants of my misguided youth.”

“I should be pleased to look at them,” Orli said, ignoring the man’s invitation to discuss his colorful career as a highwayman.

“Would you be pleased to look at them now?” Jet asked hopefully.

“I would prefer to wait until Lord Viggo can accompany me,” Orli said.

“Lord Viggo,” Jet repeated. “Do you name him so? That is interesting as you show very little respect to my half-brother or me. No, do not cringe away. I am not angry; I am intrigued by your forwardness.”

“I do not wish to intrigue you,” Orli replied, his eyes on the misty depths.

“Nor can you prevent it,” Jet said. “Every coin has two sides, Orli.”

At last, the onnagata’s lovely eyes turned to the warrior. Orli held still as an errant lock was tucked behind his ear and callused fingertips brushed his cheek in passing.

“You were born beautiful,” Jet went on. “And that is the blessing and the burden you must bear for we are alone in this world and yet we are never alone. Do you understand?”

“I will think about your words,” Orli said diplomatically.

“I desire you,” Jet said bluntly.

“I am not free.”

Jet inclined his head. “Please inform me the instant that you are,” he said looking back over the edge. “Are the ferns not lovely in their shawls of mist? I often stand here at dawn and watch the ocean of fog swirl between the peaks, hiding and then revealing their wonders.”

Grateful for the man’s tact, Orli talked pleasantly with him for a few minutes before they walked back across the sun-washed stone to the forge. The dancer laughed merrily at a witticism of Jet’s and Viggo looked up sharply from a heated discussion about blending metals. Keanu saw the expression on his western friend’s face and knew it was too late for warnings. Viggo had fallen under the sway of the charming creature.

“Viggo-san,” Jet said, as he entered the smithy. “If you do not object, I offer clothing for the onnagata more appropriate to the situation you find yourselves in.”

“Thank you,” Viggo said courteously. “Did you wish to go now, Orli?”

“With your permission,” the boy said.

“You are free to do as you please,” the Dane reminded.

Keanu and Jet exchanged a look of incredulity.

“Then I shall,” Orli said, turning on his heel and leaving Jet to hurry after him.

Viggo turned and looked at Keanu and the old man. “I may be imagining it, but Orli sounded somewhat upset.”

Keanu lifted an eyebrow. “Has it escaped your notice that the onnogata has taken aim at you? You were supposed to go with him.”

“I thought he wanted to be independent,” the Dane said.

The ancient smith shook his head. “He wants what all natural beings want: to know he is loved. You told him you did not care about him when you let him go without protest.”

“Gentlemen,” Viggo said. “You have the wrong impression of my relationship with Orli.”

“It is you who has the wrong impression,” Lee disagreed.

“And how would you know the inner workings of my mind,” Viggo asked the old man.

“I am a wizard,” Lee answered equably. “And you are not a terribly difficult book to read.”

“And the onnagata?” Viggo prompted.

“Ah,” the wizard said, stroking his beard. “There is a pretty puzzle. He is either nothing like he seems, or he is exactly like he seems. Wisdom comes in being able to tell the difference. Either the onnagata’s artifice is brilliant, or he is a child very much in need of being loved without reservation.”

Viggo’s eyes followed the path the boy had taken.

“You must solve this riddle for your self,” Lee said.

“Go,” Keanu said, “and give me some time alone with my old friend.”

Somewhat self-consciously, Viggo bowed to the two men before he turned and walked away.

“There goes one with the heart and soul of a samurai,” the wizard said.

Viggo caught up with Jet and the onnagata to find he had doomed himself to an interminable hour watching Orli sort through chests of clothing while conversing with their host in Japanese. Perching on a bolt of silk, the Dane tried to remember why it had seemed so imperative that he be here.

tbc  



	6. Chapter Six: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an Eastern as opposed to a Western. The year is 1729, but Japan is still a feudal society much like medieval Europe. Minor kings called shoguns rule from their palaces with their personal armies. Society is tiered in rigid castes with myriad strictures defining acceptable behavior. It is a culture of contrasts best exemplified by the samurai who are sensitive poets as well as fierce warriors. In 1629 the ruling shogunate banned women from performing on the stage leading to the rise of the onnagata, men that portrayed female characters. Into this world comes a Westerner, a Dane who crafts weapons as his calling, seeking knowledge to further his art.

Summary: This is an Eastern as opposed to a Western. The year is 1729, but Japan is still a feudal society much like medieval Europe. Minor kings called shoguns rule from their palaces with their personal armies. Society is tiered in rigid castes with myriad strictures defining acceptable behavior. It is a culture of contrasts best exemplified by the samurai who are sensitive poets as well as fierce warriors. In 1629 the ruling shogunate banned women from performing on the stage leading to the rise of the onnagata, men that portrayed female characters. Into this world comes a Westerner, a Dane who crafts weapons as his calling, seeking knowledge to further his art.

  
The Onnagata: Chapter Six  
A Viggorli a/u rated NC17 for male/male sexual situations.  
Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction.  
:: :: :: :: :: :: ::

Orli offered to make dinner. To serve it, he wore a simple kimono of poppy silk tied with a sash of black brocade. The bright red color of the robe drew the eye irresistibly.

“Please sit and eat,” Viggo requested.

“That is most gracious,” Orli said, “but I have had my dinner already.”

Viggo sat back, admitting to himself that it was undeniably pleasant to be catered to by such a lovely young thing. He would enjoy it for just an hour or two. Viggo was raising a warm cup of sake to his lips when Jet mentioned the Dane’s plans to return to Kyoto. Orli rose and walked out of the room without a word.

Keanu met Viggo’s eyes. “Viggo-san,” the samurai said. “May I have a few moments with my brother?”

“Of course,” Viggo said as he stood. “Thank you for your hospitality, Dancing Tiger.”

As Viggo hurried down the hall, he saw the onnagata go through a doorway on the left. The Dane followed and found he was in a bedchamber. Orli knelt at the end of the sleeping pad, his head bowed. Viggo came forward and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“How may I serve you?” Orli said in an onnagata’s soft, neutral tones.

“I came to see what troubles you,” the man said.

Orli looked up. “When were you going to tell me that you were leaving?” he asked.

“I did not think of it,” Viggo said. “You will be safe here until I return.”

“You can leave me behind so easily?” the boy asked.

“I would not say easily,” Viggo murmured.

“You are like all warriors,” Orli said in disgust. “You might speak differently, but you think the same way as a samurai. So I am to be left here like baggage to be claimed later.”

“That is not the way of it,” Viggo said. “It is too dangerous for you to go back.”

“It is just as dangerous for you,” Orli said.

“That is not a valid argument,” the Dane said. “I know how to defend myself.”

“Then teach me to fight as you offered,” the young man said instantly.

“I shall, if you truly wish it, as soon as I return. However, I cannot possibly teach you enough in a few hours.”

Orli bowed his head again. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“You want me to sleep here?”

“Yes. I wish to give you a reason to come back for me.”

“That is absolutely unnecessary,” a flustered Viggo replied. “I will keep my word.”

“Then give me something to remember you by,” the onnagata murmured.

“What is it you want?” the Dane said.

“If I may be so bold…”

“Yes,” Viggo said in exasperation. “Be bold as you like.”

“Let me give you pleasure,” the onnagata said. “You need do nothing.”

“Is that what you truly want?” Viggo asked.

Orli nodded. “It would please me to please you,” the boy said.

Viggo stood quietly and let the young man remove his garments with quick, deft movements. The clothing was neatly folded and placed on top of a chest. With gentle touches, the onnagata urged the Dane to lie down on his back. Awash with anticipation that verged on fear, Viggo propped his head on a bolster and tried to relax.

Orlando loosened his robe, removing the sash as he knelt between the man’s thighs. Viggo shivered as the boy’s fingertips trailed lightly up the inside of his legs. The hair that furred the westerner’s limbs fascinated the onnagata, and he wound his fingers in the golden thatch where the Dane’s thighs joined. Viggo found it difficult to remain unmoving when he felt the young man’s breath against the taut skin of his belly.

“You flatter me with your readiness,” Orli murmured as he grasped the Dane’s erection.

“Will it bother you if I speak?” Viggo asked.

“What do you wish to say?” the boy asked just before his lips touched the tip of the man’s arousal.

The sight of his cock disappearing between those perfect lips made Viggo’s groin tighten in a spasm of erotic excitement. Whatever Viggo might have said was lost in the wave of bliss that washed through him taking coherent thought with it.

While the onnagata tended to the man’s pleasure, Viggo floated on a vast, warm sea of euphoria. The boy’s hands and mouth moved on the Dane’s flesh with such a sure light touch that the man relaxed in utter beguilement. Before he realized how close he was to release, Viggo was filling the velvet mouth with bittersweet seed.

Sated and drowsy, Viggo could not hold his eyelids open. He felt the onnagata’s soft hands caressing him soothingly, crooning an alien melody that was nonetheless pleasant and restful. Viggo sighed deeply as his head was pulled onto a silken lap and his hair was stroked until he fell asleep. Just before he dropped off, Viggo reflected that a man could get used to this.

:: :: ::

Orli stood on the ramparts and watched the two men on horseback grow smaller with distance until they were hidden by a turn of the steep road. Jet came up behind the onnagata and coughed politely.

“It grows cold,” Dancing Tiger said. “Will you come inside?”

Silently, Orli turned and followed the former bandit into the fortress. Time passed slowly, but it passed, as Orli fell into a domestic routine, caring for Jet and the old wizard. Lee was pleasant company, though he was most times absorbed in his work, and the alternative was spending more time with the Dancing Tiger.

Though Jet was circumspect and never hinted at his desire in words, Orli could feel the man’s lust for him. The onnagata did not wish to spend too much time in the warrior’s powerful presence. Orli did not fear that Jet would try to force him; rather, the boy feared that he would offer himself. He despised his training, but he was yet subject to it.

The sun was very bright this morning, as Orli carried a tray out to the smithy. The strong rays heated the top of his bare head, as he crossed the cobbled courtyard. Smoke and the sound of Lee’s curses rose from the shed, along with the ringing of metal on metal.

The din should have prevented the wizard from detecting any trace of the onnagata’s approach until the tray was set down at Lee’s elbow. However, the old man did not recoil in surprise. He simply laid his mallet aside and turned to face the boy.

“My most sincere thanks,” Lee said, as he sat on his low stool. “Refreshment is most welcome just now.”

Orli smiled gently as he poured a cup of straw colored tea and offered it with bowed head.

The old man returned the smile. “To gaze on your beauty framed by the majesty of these mountains is a daily gift,” the wizard said.

Orli bowed slightly. “To be thought beautiful by one so discerning is an honor,” he said.

“We are most polite, are we not?” Lee said. “May I speak plainly, young man?”

“When do you not?” Orli fell into the teasing rapport that had developed between them.

“Impertinence,” Lee snorted, before taking a sip of his tea. “You are a terrible onnagata.”

Orli’s smile broadened. “Please do not have me beaten,” he said. “What was it that you wished to tell me?”

“Dancing Tiger is a good man,” Lee began, before the look in Orli’s eyes stopped him.

“Do not speak to me of his virtues,” the onnagata said. “I know them well enough from the evidence of my own senses. I know he is strong and of a good age to settle down. He is intelligent and refined and he has this fortress filled with the spoils of his former career. I know all this and much more, but it means nothing to me. How could it when I have already accepted a guardian?”

“Lord Jet would appreciate you,” the wizard said. “Though the gaijin has the spirit of a samurai, he is not one of us. Lord Viggo will never know what he has in you.”

“Perhaps I prefer it that way,” Orli said in a near-whisper.

“You will never be whole if you continue to deny yourself,” Lee answered.

“Perhaps this,” Orli held his arms out, indicating his feminine apparel, “is not what I am.”

“You are not these trappings,” the old man agreed, “but you were made to please a man: the man that you love. That is your best destiny. That is what you deny.”

“I am not in love with anyone.”

“You are as blind as he,” the wizard said under his breath, and then raised his voice. “Thank you for making your mind clear to me,” he said. “Your reaction to the mere suggestion of Dancing Tiger as protector was revealing. I am now convinced that you consider the gaijin your guardian in truth.”

“I have already told you that.”

“Yes, but now I know it,” Lee said. “You are a skilled actor, Orli. I had to be sure that you were telling the truth.”

“And now that you are sure?” Orli’s voice had an edge to it.

The wizard’s black eyes flicked over the onnagata’s shoulder and Orli turned his head. Jet was running toward them, flinging droplets of red from his sword as he ran. Lee stood and took a katana from the rack as the warrior stopped beside the forge.

“What has happened, Tiger?” the old man asked.

“Mercenaries. Inside the gate,” Jet said tersely. “We have been betrayed.”

The wizard removed a stone from the fire pit, revealing a dark hollow behind it. Pulling forth a leather bag, the old man handed it to Orli.

“Keep this safe,” Lee said. “I shall need both hands to fight.”

Orli nodded and waited for further instruction.

“Come,” Jet said. “I will get us out of the fortress.”

“Good luck to you,” the wizard said.

Orli looked back over his shoulder as he followed Jet. “Why is Lee-san not coming with us?”

“He knows we cannot hope to escape them unless they are delayed here. Do not worry too much about Lee; the old one knows many tricks.”

The boy stumbled and Jet steadied him until he caught his balance.

“Look at what is before you and not what is behind you,” the warrior said curtly.

Orli took his advice. Slinging the strap of Lee’s leather pouch over his head, he tucked it under his arm. Grasping the hem of the long kimono, Orli tucked the trailing ends into his sash, freeing his legs. Jet nodded his approval of the practicality.

“This way,” Jet said, pulling the onnagata up a short flight of stone steps.

They emerged into the light again on the eastern rampart. A loud percussive sound drove them to press their backs against the wall and they saw a column of greenish smoke rise from the approximate direction of the forge.

“Lee left a little surprise for the mercenaries,” Jet said. “Some of them, the more curious ones, will be seeking a new line of work after today. There are few who have need of blind soldiers without hands.”

Orli shuddered. “I know they will kill us, or worse, if they catch us, but your words paint a grim picture.”

“I but meant to reassure you about the old man,” Jet said. “I know you have grown fond of him.”

“He is easy to love,” Orli said, as he followed the warrior to the coign of the parapet.

Jet anchored a rope and gestured Orli forward. He quickly showed the boy how to hold the line and told him how to fend himself off the wall with his feet.

“You will be fine,” Jet said to allay the fear in the onnagata’s lovely eyes. “You are braver than you know, Blossom. I regret that the light of your eyes does not shine for me.”

“If I had not already chosen,” Orli said, “I would be proud to be your consort.”

Jet made a stiff little bow, inclining his head sharply. Wrapping a coil of the line around his shoulders, he lowered the onnagata over the battlement.

Orli was thinking that this wasn’t so hard; it was enjoyable and he might like to do it again. Then the rope went slack and he fell onto his back. Fortunately, he was less than five feet above the ground, but the air went out of his lungs, and he lay there a moment staring dazedly up.

An unfamiliar face framed by a battered helmet looked down from the top of the wall. The stranger was joined by another and another and then something large was pitched over the rampart. The missile thudded into the rocks and pine straw, bounced once and lay still.

The onnagata turned his head and stared into Jet’s blank eyes less than an arm’s-length away. In the next instant, Orli was on his feet and running for the scant shelter of the wind tortured pines.

tbc  



	7. Chapter Seven: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

A Viggorli a/u  
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando  
This chapter rated R for violence and male/male sexual situations.  
Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction.  
Thank you, Piper  
:: :: :: :: ::  


“Where is the onnagata?”

“Where is Keanu?” the Dane replied, as he had every time the question had been asked.

Cold water struck Viggo’s face and bare chest. The Dane shook his head, scattering droplets across the cell and the pair who stood in front of him. If his hands were not manacled to the wall, Viggo would have throttled the excuse for a man who questioned him.

Lord Kasuka clench his bony fists in frustration. In the shadows, Lady Watanabe’s eyes narrowed as she gazed on the stubborn gaijin. Westerners were weak; everyone knew that. Why would this man not tell them what they wanted to know? Having lost her patience with her ineffectual brother, the Lady glided into the torchlight.

“Why do you protect the onnagata?” she asked softly, pronouncing the last word as though it were synonymous with whore.

“I swore an oath,” Viggo said.

“The creature is not deserving of your loyalty,” the Lady said. “Aside from rejecting the sincere advances of my honorable brother, the onnagata beguiled my husband. Knowing this, will you still suffer for his sake?”

“Lady,” Viggo said, making the title sound like an insult. “Your arguments ceased to have any validity the moment you clapped me in irons. I do not respond well to force.”

“Then I must try persuasion,” the Lady said. “I will tell you where your friend, the traitor Keanu is. The half-breed that my husband ill-advisedly took into service is feeding the ravens with the other carrion you left behind you on the road to Kyoto.”

“If you hire unprincipled mercenaries, you must expect some debris to accumulate,” Viggo answered. “I do not surrender my sword to hirelings.”

“No, it took four soldiers to subdue you,” she said. “And even then, they had to render you unconscious to disarm you. The mercenaries told us of your courage and your skill.”

Viggo absorbed the news of Keanu’s death without outward sign. “I wish to speak to the shogun,” he said for perhaps the hundredth time.

This time, the Dane got an answer. “He does not wish to speak to you,” Kasuka said.

“Does Lord Watanabe even know that I am imprisoned here?”

“He does not need to know every-“ Kasuka began, before his sister cut him off.

“Silence, fool,” the Lady hissed. “We are seeking information, not providing it.”

Young Lord Kasuka’s sallow features stiffened. When his sister returned her interest to the foreigner, Kasuka stared at the back of her head as though taking aim. Viggo noted the murderous look, and then a stinging slap brought his attention back to the woman.

“More mercenaries were sent,” she said. “They are following your path and will soon find the creature who seduced my husband’s affections away and made my brother look a fool.”

“They will not find him,” the Dane said. “We did not take the dancer with us. Keanu said it would slow us down too much.”

“I can easily believe that,” the Lady said. “Where did you leave the onnagata?”

“Why do you want him so badly?”

“He must be chastised,” the Lady said. “And I must witness it.”

“Has he not suffered enough to satisfy you?” the Dane asked.

The woman merely stared back at him, her obsidian eyes as cold and remorseless as any member of the serpent family. Viggo knew in that instant that appealing to her softer emotions was pointless for they had been driven from her a long time ago. He did not know if she were worthier of being despised or pitied. Her next words made up his mind.

“When the unnatural creature is delivered into my hands, I will take my revenge,” the Lady said. “First, Kasuka will take the onnagata. Then the mercenaries will have their turn. When the soldiers have finished with him, I shall open the doors of this palace to any who might wish to lay with an onnagata. I will give the saya surfeit of that which he most desires until he gags on it. I shall watch, savoring his screams, moans and pleas for mercy, tasting each tear, each drop of sweat, blood and seed.”

“You are mad and...” Viggo stopped in mid-sentence, unable to think of a word to describe her sickness.

“I am dishonored,” she said. “As a woman, I may not take up a sword and face my rival in combat, but I shall use any means at my disposal to seek vengeance.”

Viggo remained silent; words would not avail him here. The Lady observed the hard sheen that filmed the gaijin’s oddly colored eyes.

“We shall get no more from him,” she told her brother.

“What will we do with him then?” Kasuka asked.

“The same thing we did to his friend Keanu,” the Lady said wearily. “Have the mercenaries kill him and throw his body into a ravine.”

Kasuka nodded and brought up the subject of her revenge. “Lord Watanabe will not countenance strangers walking through his home to enjoy a few minutes in heaven,” he said.

“My weak husband’s tastes will not be a factor by then,” she said.

Kasuka blinked his incomprehension.

“You know that I spent yesterday morning in the forest. Do you think I enjoy picking mushrooms?” the Lady asked sarcastically. “I could not entrust a maid to gather this particular kind for me. As soon as we know the onnagata is captured, I shall surprise my husband with a meal cooked by my own hands.”

“And it will be his last,” Kasuka guessed.

The Lady gave a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, brother,” she answered. “It will be his last.”

The pair of conspirators did not spare the Dane another glance as they left the cell. Viggo hung in his manacles, trying to ease the strain on his shoulders as he thought about what he’d overheard. Keeping his sorrow at Keanu’s death at bay with an effort of will, the Dane concentrated on the facts pertinent to the present situation.

Lady Watanabe was even more treacherous than her brother. Viggo was horrified by the evil siblings’ plan. He could do nothing to help Keanu, but he could try and prevent Lord Watanabe’s murder and the onnagata’s... ruin.

There were no guards kept on the Dane for fear they would talk. Viggo knew that if he could get free of his irons, he would have a chance of finding the shogun and demanding justice. It would be preferable to the mercy he would get at the Lady’s hands.

Determinedly, Viggo once again searched his shackles for weak points. None had appeared since the last inspection, but he did it anyway. He knew metal; he would find a way to free himself from the iron’s grasp.

\V/M\V/M\V/M\V/M\V/M\V/

The warrior posted at the Garden Gate of Lord Watanabe’s palace blinked his eyes, but the vision persisted. A figure from an erotic daydream floated toward him, relieving the tedium of his watch. Layers of loose kimonos of thin silk billowed about the slender figure, revealing and hiding alluring charms with each gliding step. Dark hair framed a face of perfect paleness with black eyes and lips red as poppy petals.

The guard shifted to allow his burgeoning erection room to grow as he imagined being alone with the lovely creature. Then his lust-hazed brain remembered that they were alone. The Garden Gate opened onto a lane that was for the private use of the Lord’s household. There was nothing at the other end but a wall.

Of course, he was not really thinking of ravishing this vision; he would lose his place if the Lord found out. Unless the vision was walking the streets seeking business...

“May I direct you?” the man called out.

“You are all alone here,” the vision said in a soft voice of invitation.

The guard smiled. Fortune favored him today. The beautiful stranger wanted to earn some coin in trade for pleasant company.

“I am very lonely,” the man answered. “Would you stay with me for awhile?”

Giving the man a flash of bright eyes, the vision replied. “I would like that, but I must not be late for my dinner.”

“I will give you coin to buy your dinner,” the guard offered.

“Is there somewhere private we may go?”

The soldier stood aside and indicated the garden with a wave of his arm. “Will this suit?”

The aroused guard followed the sway of shapely buttocks beneath sliding silk to the shade of a blossoming plum tree.

“Why do we not go inside?” the man said, gesturing to the small summerhouse behind them.

“If it pleases you,” the prostitute said, flicking another hot-eyed glance at the man.

In the whore’s fathomless gaze, the guard saw more than the promise of earthly paradise. He saw delights unimagined, pleasures not meant for mortal man. Eagerly, the warrior grasped the soft hand and pulled his prize toward the airy structure. Finally close enough, Orli pulled the wakizashi from the man’s sash.

Abruptly clear-headed, the man flung himself away from the onnagata. Orli brandished the short sword, ordering the warrior to halt. The guard turned and saw the inept grip the streetwalker had on the weapon. Slowly, the smile returned to the soldier’s face.

“Give it back, Doe-Eyes,” he said, his hand hovering near the hilt of his katana. “Hand it over now, and I will forget this. We will go into the gazebo and laugh about it.”

Orli stood his ground, holding the blade awkwardly in front of him. “You will tell me where the gaijin is being held, and I will not cut your throat.”

The guard looked puzzled for a moment, and then chuckled indulgently. “You’re a boy,” he said. “All right then, saya, we will take the more difficult path.”

The man drew his katana faster than Orli would have believed possible. The onnagata lashed out with the short sword as the guard lunged toward him. The wakizashi traced a thin line of red down the side of the warrior’s neck before it was struck from the boy’s hand. Orli leaped away, ignoring the numbness in his wrist as the man came after him. The onnagata might have outrun the soldier, but for the sword. The sight of the gleaming steel inches from his eyes convinced Orli to stay where he was.

“That was very foolish, Doe-Eyes,” the guard said. “Now I must take you to Lord Kasuka.”

“Why would you not take me to the shogun?” Orli asked in surprise.

“Lord Watanabe does not wish to be bothered with this unsavory business of the gaijin and has given his brother-in-law charge of the investigation.”

The soldier’s hand shot out, grasping a fistful of silky hair. Yanking the boy’s head up, the guard took the soft mouth in a ravenous kiss that lacked any finesse. It was a gesture meant to establish dominance and Orli submitted.

The man set aside his sword and pushed the kimono off the onnagata’s smooth shoulders. With less than gentle pressure, the guard indicated that Orli should kneel. Resignedly, the boy was already parting the folds of the soldier’s robe as he sank to his knees.

Orli heard the man gasp in anticipation, and then he was on the ground with the guard on top of him. Convulsively, the boy threw the soldier off and got to his hands and knees. A pair of boots in front of his face froze Orli in his crouch.

“Still plying your trade I see.”

Orli looked up to see Keanu holding out a hand to him.

“The mercenary I found told me you were dead,” the onnagata said in shock.

“Did it occur to you that he might be lying? Take my hand.”

Orli got to his feet on his own as Keanu took the guard’s swords. The samurai was bruised and crudely bandaged, missing his armor and smeared with mud and dust.

“What are you staring at?” Keanu asked as he hefted the weapons to test their balance.

“Forgive me Keanu-san. You look so... different.”

“I am sure it pleases you to see me in such a lowly state, but I do not care.”

“Thank you for saving me from the guard,” Orli said.

“Thank you for distracting him long enough for me to get inside,” Keanu replied. “Come into the summerhouse and tell me how you come to be here.”

Orli told Keanu of the mercenary attack on the fortress and his arduous journey back to Kyoto, hiding in the woods and in barns. The onnagata spoke with lowered eyes of the elderly patron of the kabuki that lived near the outskirts of the city and was willing to help a fugitive in return for certain services.

“Now I understand where you got the clothing and how you kept your belly full, but why are you here alone? Where are this elderly patron’s men?” Keanu sneered.

“I could not afford them,” Orli said flatly.

“I see. What did he ask that was too shameful even for you?”

“After I danced for him, he wanted to touch me,” Orli said. “They always want to touch me, but I told him it was not possible. Unlike some, he accepted my decision.”

“If your words prove to be the truth, I will humbly beg your forgiveness,” the samurai said. “Right now, I have a debt to pay.”

“If your intent is to free Lord Viggo, I wish to help.”

After a long pause, Keanu spoke dispassionately. “You are very beautiful, but so is a viper. Betray my friend and I will strangle your with my own hands.”

“I understand you well, Keanu-san,” the boy said.

Keanu sucked his teeth for a moment of hard thought. “Very well,” he said at last. “You could be useful. However, you must do as I say; do you understand?”

“Hai,” Orli said instantly.

Keanu took the time to bind and gag the unconscious gate guard. “Masahiro, my friend,” the samurai murmured. “You are too much ruled by your smaller staff. Sleep well.”

The warrior stood and gestured curtly to the onnagata. “Come,” Keanu said. “I am certain that your charms will work as well on the next guard.”

tbc


	8. Chapter Eight: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

A Viggo/Orlando a/u set in Japan of the Fifteenth Century.  
This chapter rated R for violence.  
Disclaimer: I have no personal knowledge of those portrayed herein.  
::: = ::: = ::: = ::: = ::: = ::: = :::  


Viggo lifted his head and blinked as the door opened and light flooded his cell. He was weak from hunger and dehydration, his vision was blurry and his mind confused.

“Viggo-san,” said a voice the Dane had thought he would never hear again.

Viggo’s cracked lips moved, but no sound came out. Quickly, Keanu used a confiscated dagger to spring the lock on the Dane’s manacles. Viggo’s arms dropped limply and he would have pitched forward, if strong arms had not caught him.

“Can you hold him up?” Keanu asked the onnagata.

Orli nodded and wrapped his arms more securely around the Dane’s chest. Viggo’s head lolled back and he tried to focus his bleary gaze on the one who supported him. His eyes rolled up and he blacked out as Keanu moved in front of him.

The samurai slung Viggo over his shoulder and carried him from the cell. Orli followed, after picking up the Dane’s belongings from where they’d been thrown into a corner. As quickly as possible, they retraced their steps to the Garden Gate.

“I knew our luck was too good,” Keanu said, eyeing the samurai standing between them and freedom. “We cannot possibly get out unseen.”

“No, we cannot,” Orli said. “Will you take this please?”

Keanu frowned as the onnagata held out the Dane’s sword. “Can you not carry it? I know it is against the law, but surely in this situation . . . “

Instead of arguing, Orli thrust the sheath through Keanu’s sash and walked from behind the summerhouse. He moved away on a diagonal that would cross the guards’ line of sight and attract their attention. Keanu stared after the onnagata in amazement.

“Boy!” he hissed. “Do not do this!”

“Take the gaijin to safety,” Orli replied softly, his trained voice carrying back to Keanu.

The ronin watched as the guards caught sight of the onnagata. When the soldiers began to run after the boy, Keanu shouldered his friend and slipped out of the gate. It rankled him to escape by such cowardly means, but he could not let the onnagata’s sacrifice be in vain. Keanu’s first priority was getting Viggo away from here.

X<0>X<0>X<0>X<0>X<0>X<0>X<0>X<0>X

Lord Kasuka gazed greedily at the prisoner, his stare moving over the onnagata’s form like a large insect. Orli’s skin crawled, but his face was impassive as he knelt between two guards.

“He is securely bound?” Kasuka asked, his eyes never leaving the captive.

“Assuredly, my lord,” the older samurai said.

“Then you may leave,” Lady Watanabe’s brother said. “Wait! Before you return to your post, inform your mistress that a prisoner has been taken.”

The warriors bowed stiffly and left. Kasuka slid the panel shut behind them and circled the captive until he stood behind him. Orli held himself in perfect stillness, waiting passively for whatever would happen next.

“I told you that you would be mine,” the scrawny man said.

Orli flinched when Kasuka’s clammy fingers touched his cheek.

“So beautiful,” Kasuka crooned. “So soft. So fine. Now you have come to me.”

Cold claws gripped the onnagata’s spine at the sound of the man’s singsong voice. Orli had refused to see Lord Kasuka alone each time the young aristocrat had requested a private performance. Orli did not object to anything so superficial as Kasuka’s unattractive appearance, but something much less tangible. Kasuka inspired unreasoning revulsion on a level below the conscious one.

“My sweet sister told me you would come, but I did not believe her,” Kasuka said, as though he spoke to himself. “She says she will give you to me after you have been punished. Should I believe her now? She has lied to me many times.”

Orli kept his eyes meekly downcast and didn’t move a muscle as Kasuka stopped behind him again. Kasuka grabbed a fistful of the boy’s hair and pulled his head back.

“Look at me,” Kasuka ordered. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

A tear ran from the corner of Orli’s left eye, cutting a track in the white powder, but he made no other response.

“Why will you not look at me?” Kasuka’s commanding tone became a petulant whine. “Do you think me ugly? My sister says I am handsome.”

Another tear traced a path across Orli’s temple as the man’s fingers tightened in his hair. Keeping a firm grip, Kasuka walked around until he was in front of the onnagata again.

“Pleasure me with your mouth,” the aristocrat said, pulling Orli’s head forward.

Orli finally spoke. “I cannot,” he said in the same flat tone he’d used to tell the Dane that he could not fight.

“I hold your worthless life in my hands,” Kasuka said. “You will do as I tell you, or you will be sorry when my sister arrives.”

“I am already sorry, my lord,” Orli said.

“Then you will be sorrier,” the young man said. “Show me your skill, saya, or suffer.”

“I will suffer either way,” the onnagata answered. “Given a choice, I will suffer with my honor intact. I must refuse you for I have been claimed.”

“If you have found a patron foolish enough to oppose me, it will not matter soon. When I may move openly, I will send my samurai to kill those who have thwarted me.”

“Your samurai, my lord?”

“You have met them. I sent them to the theater to fetch you, but they failed miserably at their task.”

“How did you buy their loyalty?” Orli asked.

“Can you not guess? I promised them a sword, a very special sword,” Kasuka said. “If you are finished asking questions, put that lovely mouth to better use.”

“You have my answer already, my lord.”

“Who is your master?” Kasuka shouted in sudden rage.

“A better question might be ‘Why did you come back here?’” Lord Watanabe said from behind his brother-in-law.

Kasuka spun around, letting go of Orli’s hair. “Ah, my lord. I was not… not expecting you.”

“That is not surprising since you told the guards that I did not wish to be troubled by this investigation.”

“I thought you needed some time to rest and forget about this unpleasantness.”

“You were wrong,” the shogun said. “Fortunately, the guards who brought the prisoner here were intelligent enough to realize that I would wish to observe this interrogation.”

“Of course, my lord,” Kasuka bowed slightly.

“The samurai said they caught the onnagata on the grounds. What do you suppose he was doing here?”

“He aided the thieves,” Kasuka said, avoiding the question. “You know that, my lord.”

“What have you learned from the prisoner with your expert method of questioning?” the shogun asked with subtle sarcasm.

“I have only now persuaded him to talk, my lord. He is woefully stubborn, but he was about to tell me the name of the one who planned the shameful crime.”

“I would be very interested in hearing that name,” Lord Watanabe said. “I will speak with the prisoner alone now.”

Kasuka looked as though he wished to argue but dared not. Chewing an end of his wispy mustache, he left the chamber.

The shogun put his fingers under the onnagata’s chin and lifted the boy’s pretty face to the light. Orli’s eyelids were lowered, his long lashes brushing high cheekbones. Lord Watanabe gazed regretfully at the kneeling prisoner. The shogun wished he dared free the hands bound so tightly at the small of the dancer’s back. The delicate skin of the onnagata’s wrists was red and chafed and would soon begin to bleed, if the young man lived that long.

“He is gone, Orli; look at me,” the shogun said kindly. There was none present to hear him and accuse him of impropriety.

The onnagata’s pellucid eyes opened.

“Ah,” Lord Watanabe sighed. “How can I condemn such beauty? Even though the evidence seems plain as ink on paper.”

Orli did not answer. His only response was a shiver as the man’s thumb absently caressed the soft skin of his throat.

“I cannot fathom why you would do such a foolish thing,” the shogun said. “I know that performers are held to be flighty and spiteful, but I never knew you to be so. I can think of no reason you would wish to cause difficulties for me. I do not flatter myself that I angered you when I ceased my visits. In fact, I thought that you might be relieved.”

“No, great lord,” Orli blurted out.

Lord Watanabe raised his eyebrows. “Do you have something to say?”

The man’s grip on his jaw would not allow Orli to lower his head. The onnagata compromised by closing his eyes again.

“You were kind and generous and patient, my lord,” Orli said. “I missed your company.”

“Would you say this if your life were not in my hands, I wonder?”

“I have no proof but my word,” Orli said with a tinge of bitterness in his carefully modulated tones.

“Why did you come here?” the shogun asked. “It was very unwise.”

“I did not have a choice. My patron was being held prisoner here and I…”

“Wished to free him,” Lord Watanabe finished for the boy. “You are so brave, Orli. There is not another like you in all Nippon. Such courage in such a delicate form is irresistible; it makes me desire you even more. And it makes what I must do even harder.”

Lord Watanabe released the onnagata and went to the weapon rack. He lifted the wakizashi from its pegs beneath the empty space reserved for its mate.

“The Cherry Blossom katana has been carried by the eldest son of Clan Watanabe since it was made,” the shogun said. “It is the symbol of my House and of my authority. The thief took much more than a sword; he took my honor.”

The onnagata’s head was once more bowed when the Lord returned to him. Gently, the shogun brushed the dark curls from the boy’s neck, his fingers lingering on the warm flesh of the tender nape.

“I must recover the sword,” Lord Watanabe said. “If you have any knowledge of it, I implore you to reveal it.”

“I had no part in any plot against you, great lord,” Orli said. “I do not know where your sword is.”

If Orli had thought he would be believed, he would reveal everything Lord Kasuka had told him. However, bitter experience had taught the dancer what his word was worth to others. Accusing the shogun’s brother-in-law would only garner Orli a more painful death.

“I wish to believe you,” Lord Watanabe said, “but if I let you go, there will be those who claim I did it because I was besotted with you. I cannot allow that.”

“I know, my lord,” Orli answered. “It is better that I die than you be thought weak.”

“Is it?” the shogun asked softly. “I am not so sure now that it is your life that hangs in the balance.”

“Even if you should spare me, I could not give you the reward you want,” Orli said candidly.

“I know,” Lord Watanabe said. “As I know that you have never understood that I did not come to you for physical pleasure alone. Joining with you was heaven on earth, but it would was one more dish at an already bountiful banquet.”

“You honor me, great lord,” Orli said.

“I love you,” the shogun answered.

“Just as I thought,” said Lady Watanabe as she emerged from behind the armor stand.

tbc  



	9. Chapter Nine: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orli’s life hangs in the balance; can anyone save him now?

A Viggo/Orlando a/u set in Shogunate Japan, rated PG13 for threat of death  
Summary: Orli’s life hangs in the balance; can anyone save him now?  
Disclaimer: I have no personal knowledge of the private lives of these people.  
Thank you to Piper who can make anything shine.  
<@>>+<<@>>+<<@>>+<<@>>  


Viggo’s eyes flew open and he sat up. Keanu pressed him firmly back down to the pillow with a hand on his sternum.

“Lie back and I will answer all your questions,” the samurai said. “You are in a Temple. The monks have bound your wounds and now you need rest. When you wake again we will talk.”

“Orli?” the Dane said hoarsely.

Keanu looked away from his friend’s eyes. “He is not with us,” the ronin said.

Viggo tried to sit up again was dissuaded once more.

“I know you burn to rise from your bed and take up your sword. You want to run back to the palace and cut down any who stand between you and the one you swore to protect. You are too weak, and we still have no proof of your innocence.”

Viggo gathered his will. Throwing off Keanu’s hand, the Dane rose. He got shakily to his feet and began to slowly dress himself.

“I do not ask you to come with me,” Viggo said, “but I cannot leave the boy to the mercy of those people.”

Keanu handed the Dane his sword. “Here. The onnagata brought this out of your cell.”

Viggo looked stunned as he took the sword that was his masterpiece. “Orli saved this when he could have saved himself. Do you still not understand my regard for him?”

“I am beginning to, but come, if you must do this, I will stand with you.”

Viggo’s eyes shone out his gratitude. No other words were necessary as the two warriors readied themselves for battle. Silently, Keanu led them by back streets from the Temple to the shogun’s palace. They crept along the eastern wall of the compound, and the ronin looked around the corner at the gate.

“What do you see?” Viggo whispered

“I see guards,” Keanu said. “As I expected.”

“Good,” Viggo answered. “I know how you hate surprises.”

Keanu gave a little shake of his head. “You are impossible, chijin. Will you not see that this is hopeless?”

“Of course I see that,” Viggo said. “I am sure Orli realized it as well before he attempted to rescue me.”

Keanu shook his head again. “I still cannot understand why he did it. His sort is more prone to self-preservation than sacrifice. It would have been more in character for him to find a wealthy patron and forget about you.”

“Perhaps that is true of other onnagata,” Viggo said, “but not this one.”

“It will not be easy to fight men I once called comrades, but you are right. We owe the boy this much. I only wish we had more time.”

“But we do not,” Viggo said, lifting his sword. “Are you ready?”

Keanu nodded and grasped Viggo’s forearm briefly. “It is an honor to fight beside you,” he said.

“And I am proud to have you guard my back,” Viggo answered.

With no more ado, the two men raced around the corner and attacked the guards. The two samurai drew their katana and gave battle. Viggo’s opponent tried but could not adjust quickly enough to the European’s fighting style. In a few fluid moves, the Dane ran the man through the shoulder, and the samurai’s sword clattered to the ground. The short sword flashed toward Viggo, and the Dane stabbed the man in the heart without thinking.

Turning from the body of his foe, Viggo sought Keanu. The half-blood dispatched his opponent as three more warriors ran onto the porch. There was no time for thought. For a dozen pulse-pounding heartbeats, steel swept through the air to ring on steel or strike dully flesh. More warriors appeared and the planks ran red with blood.

Viggo spun, his blade nearly taking a man’s head off and realized the fight was over. Keanu looked over at the Dane, leaning on his sword and breathing heavily. The young samurai had a cut on his upper arm, but it was not bleeding profusely. Viggo was as yet unmarked.

“Come,” Keanu panted. “We have won the right to enter.”

Viggo raised his sword again, and he and Keanu walked into the shogun’s palace. As they stealthily entered the private wing, a hand on Keanu’s elbow yanked him into a side room.

/%Y/%Y/%Y/%Y/%Y/%Y/%Y/%Y/%Y/%/

“Kill him!” Lady Watanabe demanded shrilly.

Lord Watanabe stared at his wife in ill-concealed disapproval. “What are you doing here?”

“I am here to be sure justice is done,” she said. “It is obvious that you are too weak to do what honor requires.”

The shogun controlled himself with an effort. “It is not clear to me that the onnagata is guilty of any wrong-doing.”

“How can you say that?” she answered stridently. “He has seduced my husband from my side and stolen his heart. Surely these are grave crimes.”

“The onnagata did not seduce me,” Lord Watanabe was provoked into saying. “His company was a welcome respite.”

The Lady’s lips thinned and her eyes narrowed. Stalking to the door, she flung it back. At her signal, two warriors marched into the room. They flanked young Lord Kasuka whose sallow face bore a smirk of superior knowledge. Across his palms was the missing sword.

“My lord,” Kasuka said with unlikely humility. “The mercenaries I sent after the thieves have finally returned. They tracked them to the lair of a notorious bandit called Dancing Tiger. The gaijin and the traitor samurai are dead along with those who harbored them, but my men did manage to recover your sword from among the loot.”

Lord Watanabe came forward and reverently lifted the blade. “You have restored my honor,” he said with a small bow.

As the shogun turned to set the blade in its rightful place, Lady Watanabe exchanged a smug look with her brother, her gaze flickering disdainfully over the brutish men who accompanied Kasuka. A pity they must use such crude, untrustworthy tools, but the ronin could be disposed of later. They served her purpose; that was all that mattered now.

At his sister’s glance, Kasuka spoke up like a bird trained to talk. “My lord. Are you not putting your weapon away too soon? There kneels the one who made the theft possible.”

Kasuka did not wish the onnagata to die, but his resolve was as a reed to the storm flood of his sister’s will. She would have what she wanted, as it had been since earliest childhood.

Lord Watanabe drew the katana and eyed the gleaming edge of the wickedly sharp steel. “You are as eager as my wife to see justice done. More eager than I who should be keenest of all for vengeance.”

With measured steps, the shogun approached the kneeling boy again. Not caring who saw, Lord Watanabe went to one knee and looked into the onnagata’s kohl-smudged eyes. He could not forebear a last caress, letting his hand slide briefly over the silk of Orli’s hair.

“You see how heavily the evidence weighs against you,” the shogun said. “Yet, I still wish to believe you are innocent. How could you be aught else? Have I truly been so blind; are you the witch some claim you to be? I can see no honorable way out of this, Orli, or I swear on this sword I hold that I would let you go free even now.”

“You do me too much honor, my lord. Please get up,” Orli murmured.

“I simply wished you to know what was in my heart,” Lord Watanobe said.

“Hikaru,” the boy whispered the shogun’s name. “I bear you no ill will.”

Lord Watanabe blinked rapidly as he rose from his crouch. Without another word, he touched the edge of the blade to the back of Orli’s neck. Taking a deep breath, the man raised the sword on high.

Lady Watanabe’s eyes gleamed as they flicked from the sword to the captive’s face. She would have preferred to see the whore broken before dying, but at least her rival was removed permanently. She would find another toy for her brother.

Orli’s gaze went to the window, to the brushstrokes of dark green firs against the blue canvas of the sky and the grace notes of chalk white storks on the wing. Perhaps his life had not been as happy as he would have liked, but the world was beautiful and he would be seeing it again in another, maybe better, life. Closing his eyes, he bent his neck and waited.

VOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVO

“Masahiro!” Keanu exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Guarding the door to the shogun’s chambers. What are you doing?” the other samurai countered.

“I am sneaking into the shogun’s chambers.”

“I cannot allow that, Keanu. You know that,” Masahiro said soberly.

“Hiro,” Keanu said softly. “You are not an indoor guard and I cannot help but notice the presence of a house-maid though she has tried to conceal herself behind that screen.”

“It does not matter what I am doing here,” Masahiro said firmly. “My duty is to guard my daimyo.”

“We are trying to keep your master from making a mistake he will regret,” Viggo spoke up.

“What is the gaijin talking about?” Masahiro asked.

“The shogun’s wife and her brother plot to kill him,” Keanu said succinctly.

“How do you know this?” Masahiro demanded.

“Viggo-san heard it from their own lips while they were torturing him,” Keanu said. “They would have killed him.”

“But you rescued him,” Masahiro finished. “It was you that knocked me out and left me lying in the garden.”

Keanu’s lips twitched. “Forgive me, but you were absent from your post.”

Masahiro’s cheeks colored and his eyes strayed toward the screen. “We can forget about that, I think. No hard feelings.”

“None whatsoever,” Keanu said. “Now, are you going to get out of our way?”

“I cannot,” Masahiro said with genuine regret as he brought his sword up.

“Hiro, you cannot defeat us both,” Keanu pointed out.

“I will do what I may,” Masahiro said.

The samurai took a deep breath preparatory to calling for aid, when the woman behind the screen spoke.

“Wait, Hiro,” she said. “I wish to hear more about this plot.”

“Miyuki!” Masahiro said in a pained voice as a petite young woman approached them in small gliding steps.

Keanu looked appreciatively at her pretty face. “I am truly sorry for interrupting you, Hiro,” he said.

“Miyuki is my cousin,” Masahiro said, his tone making it plain that at this moment he wasn’t pleased about the relationship. “She is woefully forward of tongue.”

“Do not apologize,” Keanu said. “I am beginning to find the quality attractive.”

Miyuki’s bird-bright eyes opened a trifle wider, but she didn’t look up at the tall, handsome warrior. “Please tell me what you know of a plot to kill my lord,” she said meekly.

::^:: ::^:: ::^:: ::^:: ::^:: ::^:: ::^:: ::^:: ::^::

A ripple of light ran down the highly polished steel, betraying the tremor in Lord Watanabe’s hand as he held the blade poised to strike. Orli knelt with head humbly bowed, averting his face to make it easier for the shogun. Seeing her husband’s hesitation, Lady Watanabe nudged her brother in a clear demand that Kasuka do something.

“Would you like one of the samurai to perform the execution?” Kasuka asked.

The shogun perceived this as an insult. “I need no assistance,” he said, and steeled himself to deliver the blow that would behead the lovely dancer.

tbc


	10. Chapter Ten: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New evidence is brought to light.

A Viggo/Orlando a/u set in Shogunate Japan.  
Rating: PG13 Warning: Threat of violence.  
Summary: New evidence is brought to light.  
Disclaimer: I have no knowledge of the personal lives of the people portrayed herein.  
Thank you Piper for everything.  
(O)))X(((O)(O)))X(((O)(O)))X(((O)(O)))X(((O)(O)))X(O)))  


“Stop!” Viggo shouted in Danish, as he charged forward.

All eyes turned to the gaijin brandishing a sword as he swept into the room. Behind him came Keanu with his katana in hand, and Kasuka’s mercenaries assumed a defensive crouch. The air in the chamber was thick with the tension of imminent violence.

“Cease!” the shogun thundered and all motion in the room stopped.

Everyone turned to look at Lord Watanabe, all except for the onnagata that was gazing at the foreigner with an enigmatic expression. The warriors lowered their weapons slowly with many suspicious glances at one another.

“What is the meaning of this?” the shogun asked. “Speak, dishonored one.”

Keanu’s spine stiffened. “I disobeyed you, my daimyo, and it is true that my honor is a tattered cloak, which will not shield me from your wrath. However, I could not let you make a mistake that might forever stain your soul. I could not live with that knowledge.”

“Explain,” Lord Watanabe demanded.

“Lord Viggo and the onnagata are innocent of any part in a plot against you, my lord,” Keanu said. “The theft of the Cherry Blossom Blade was a crime of opportunity that masked the real motive. When Viggo-san brought the onnagata here, he inadvertently gave the plotters an excellent dupe to draw suspicion away from your death. With the sword gone, they could always claim that the loss of your honor contributed to your sudden demise.”

“Someone has plotted my death?” Lord Watanabe asked grimly. “You will name them and then you will show me proof of such a serious accusation.”

“Very well, my lord,” Keanu said, his heart pounding like a galloping horse. “Your wife and her brother are the conspirators.”

“Liar!” Lady Watanabe said. “You have no proof. You cannot for it does not exist.”

“I think it does,” Keanu said. “In fact, I have wagered my life on it.”

“Why would I plot my beloved husband’s death?” the woman sneered.

“You do not love him,” Keanu said. “You enjoy the wealth and status that come with being the wife of the shogun, but you have no love for the man. I doubt you have love for anyone other than yourself and perhaps your brother.”

“You insult me to my face in my husband’s house,” Lady Watanabe said. “I will see you flayed alive for your insolence.”

“Perhaps,” Keanu said. “Since I can hardly anger you further, I will continue. Your motive in slandering the onnagata was the same that sparked your murderous plan. The real reason you wished the shogun dead was because he found a common dancer more attractive than his own blue-blooded wife. You cannot really blame him, Lady. Lord Watanabe may be the shogun, but he is still only a man beneath those expensive robes.”

Keanu walked to where Orli knelt and pulled the boy to his feet. Despite the time he had spent in the same position, the dancer rose as gracefully as a fountain from a pool.

“Look up, boy,” Keanu said.

With obvious reluctance, Orli raised his face. His eyes focused on the weapon rack behind Lord Watanabe as he waited for his fate to be decided.

“You are a beautiful woman, Lady,” Keanu said with a small bow, “but I think it is obvious to all in this room that you are not the onnagata’s equal for physical attractiveness. Knowing him a bit, I can also say that his demeanor is much more alluring to a man than yours. Do you know what I think, Lady?”

“What do you think, traitor?” the Lady said icily.

“I think your time would have been better spent in improving yourself than in scheming to murder your husband and destroy his lover.”

The rage in Lady Watanabe’s eyes was terrible to behold when Keanu finished speaking. With a shriek of fury, she launched herself at the bound onnagata. Orli threw himself to the floor as long nails raked at his face, missing his eyes by a hair’s-breadth. Keanu grasped the Lady by the wrists as Viggo sprang to the boy’s side. Lord Watanabe gazed in impassive silence at his livid wife until she composed herself. Keanu released the woman and backed slowly away, giving her the respect he would show to a venomous snake. Lady Watanabe touched a hand to her coif and spoke calmly.

“I have still seen no proof of a plot,” she said. “How did I intend to kill my husband?”

“With these,” Miyuki said as she entered the room.

“How dare you enter and speak without permission!” the Lady said quickly.

“Your pardon, My Lady. I thought you asked a question, and I was trying to answer it,” the maidservant replied.

“What do have in that box, girl?” the shogun said.

In small, smooth steps, Miyuki crossed the room, giving the Lady a wide berth, and knelt before the Lord. She bowed her head and proffered the small lacquered chest on her palms. Lord Watanabe took the gleaming ebony box and looked intently at the tiny lock. Grasping the lid firmly, he pried the top off and gazed within.

“Masahiro,” the shogun said, his eyes still on the contents of the trinket box he’d given his wife for her last birthday. “It appears that Lady Watanabe has plotted to kill me.”

The young samurai focused his attention on the woman. “Allow me to end her life,” he said.

“Not yet,” Lord Watanabe said. “She must be given a chance to prove her innocence. However, she is now your prisoner and you may use what means you deem necessary to prevent her escaping justice.”

Masahiro moved to stand beside the Lady with his sword drawn. The Lady’s eyes went to her brother, and a message was passed. At Kasuka’s signal, the two warriors at his back would attack, giving Kasuka and his sister a chance to escape during the melee. Kasuka looked around the chamber as he swiftly calculated their chances. Though the shogun was still staring in disbelief at the poisonous mushrooms, Masahiro stood vigilant guard. Keanu’s attention was on the gaijin and the boy. Kasuka’s eyes went to Orli’s face and his heart twisted in his chest.

The boy gazed at the foreigner as though the gaijin were the Lord of Heaven and Earth, his chosen master to whom nothing would be denied. Kasuka would give anything to have the onnagata look at him like that just once, but the foreigner did not even notice. The Dane’s eyes continuously searched the area around him, alert as a wolf crouched over its fallen mate. Orli’s head turned and his gaze met Kasuka’s. There was no anger or hatred in the onnagata’s eyes, only pity. Kasuka looked quickly away and his gaze fell on his sister. Her impatient stare bored into him, and in her eyes, Kasuka saw nothing but contempt for him.

“My lord,” Kasuka blurted out, making the shogun look up. “My lord,” the young man continued in a shaky voice. “It is true. My sister wished you dead. I was able to find your sword because I am the one who hid it.”

Lord Watanabe cocked his head at the young lord, ignoring his wife’s scream of fury. “You realize by admitting this, you condemn yourself as well.”

“I have studied the law, as you know, my lord,” Kasuka said. “I deserve my fate. I would ask one favor before I am executed. I would like to speak to Orli.”

“Speak and be brief,” the shogun said.

“I am sorry,” Kasuka said, not daring to meet the onnagata’s eyes. “In trying to possess you, I nearly destroyed you.”

“I forgive you,” Orli said softly. “You are weak, but that is not your fault.”

Tears streamed down Kasuka’s sallow cheeks at the boy’s words. Without another word, he offered his hands to Keanu for binding.

“You useless, half-witted worm,” Lady Watanabe spat. “Had I been born cocked rather than cloven, I would not have to stoop to using such tools. Were I a man, my sword would reap a red harvest and I would take what I willed, be it power, gold or flesh.”

“Then we are all fortunate indeed,” the shogun said. “And let me add that if you had been born a man, I would not have married you, and we would both be content.”

Lord Watanabe ordered Masahiro to bind the Lady’s hands and gave the lacquered chest back to Miyuki. As the maid took the box, Lady Watanabe whirled and knocked it from her hands. The Lady dropped to her knees and snatched up a handful of dried mushrooms. Before she could be stopped, she had swallowed several. The shogun called for the apothecary, but the poison was faster than the old man’s feet. By the time the doctor arrived, the Lady’s eyes were fixed and her lips were tinged with blue. Kneeling beside the contorted body, the old man picked up a brown, shriveled mushroom and looked closely at it. He closed his medicine chest and let Keanu help him to his feet.

“Poison,” the doctor wheezed and shuffled out of the room.

Viggo looked incredulously up at Keanu. Keanu stared impassively back before turning to the shogun. Lord Watanabe raised his eyebrows slightly.

“So she dies by her own will,” the shogun said with finality. “Masahiro. See to the prisoner and have these mercenaries remove this woman’s body and themselves from my house.”

When the young samurai had done his daimyo’s bidding, the Lord turned to the maid. “Girl,” he said kindly. “You have done me a great service and I wish to reward you. Please stand and wait until I have spoken with the samurai.”

Miyuki rose to her feet, her eyes on the floor in front of the shogun’s feet. Lord Watanabe gestured to Keanu to come closer.

“You have done your duty to your daimyo even though he cast you adrift. You remained loyal after being named ronin, defending my honor under the most trying of conditions. You saw a threat to me where I perceived it not and not even my betrayal could sway your devotion. I would be honored to have again the service of one so steadfast and great of heart.”

Keanu bowed deeply. “I am, and will always be, your man, my lord.”

The shogun put his hand briefly on the top of Keanu’s sleek head. “I wish to reward you as befits so exemplary a samurai,” he said. “You shall be my warlord and you shall have an estate equal to your new standing. Of course, you will need a suitable wife and as you cannot marry a servant, I will have to elevate Miyuki to a lady.”

Miyuki’s gasp was loud in the sudden silence. Keanu looked stunned and then a smile slowly took possession of his face. He looked at Miyuki and she glanced quickly up at him, before both looked quickly away. The shogun took both their hands, placing Miyuki’s atop Keanu’s.

“You have my blessing,” Lord Watanabe said.

The couple turned as the shogun’s gaze shifted to a point behind them. The Dane had sheathed his sword and helped Orli to his feet. The onnagata gripped the man’s forearms tightly until he regained his balance, and then he stepped away. The shogun’s expression was unreadable as he asked Keanu and his bride-to-be to give him some privacy. When the samurai and maidservant had bowed their way from the room, the shogun cleared his throat.

“What shall I say to the two of you?” he asked rhetorically.

“You need say nothing to me, my lord,” Viggo said. “My innocence and the innocence of this boy are proven. I am content.”

“You have suffered for my wife’s machinations,” Lord Watanabe pointed out.

“That is Fate,” the Dane said.

The shogun bowed to the gaijin. “I am honored to know you,” Lord Watanabe said. “And I shall reward you whether it is your wish or not.”

Viggo smiled. “You rule here,” he said, “and I will not gainsay you. If I were permitted to ask a boon . . .”

“You have but to speak the words,” the shogun said.

“I do not know what, if anything, binds the onnagata here, but I would ask for his release into my care. I will provide for him and protect him to the best of my abilities.”

“Is this your wish also?” Lord Watanabe asked the onnagata.

Orli clasped his hands in the sleeves of his robe and bowed his head. “Lord Viggo has proven himself a good patron, but I would not burden him with such as I. He deserves better.”

“If better exists, God has kept it for Himself,” Viggo exclaimed. “I will not listen to you disparage yourself. You are the bravest, most loyal boy I’ve ever known.”

“But still a boy,” Orli murmured.

Viggo’s eyes widened. “Think you that means aught to me?”

The onnagata’s eyes answered for him as he raised them to Viggo’s. The Dane stood a moment in frustrated indecision, and then swept the boy into his arms. In no uncertain manner, Viggo claimed Orli’s mouth with his. When the kiss ended, the man drew back a bit and looked the breathless dancer in the eyes.

“I hope that will convey the feelings I cannot put into words,” Viggo said. “I am not a man clever with speech, but I will give you as many kisses as are needed to prove my sincerity.”

“Well Orli?” the shogun said. “The choice is yours to make. If you do not wish to go with Lord Viggo, be assured that you will have a place, an honored place, at my court. You would lack for nothing and your duties would be primarily ornamental.”

At last, Orli lifted his head. He looked first at the shogun and then around the room at the many luxurious and costly furnishings. If he stayed here, his life would be one of ease and familiar comforts. If he went with the Dane, his life would be uncertain, a continually unfolding mystery in a strange land. The onnagata took a long look at this man who was so different from anyone he’d ever met. It was not just the pale hair like sunbeams or the enamel brightness of his dragon-blue eyes; it was much more than the man’s striking appearance. The gaijin had treated Orli as an equal from the moment they’d met, as though it were no more than the young man’s due.

The shogun read the boy’s answer as Orli looked up at him. “Lord Viggo,” the shogun said. “Though this splendid gift is not really mine to give, I wish you much joy of it. Orli is a rare prize indeed; one I hoped to win for myself.”

“Forgive me, but Orli is not a prize,” Viggo answered. “Not in the way you seem to mean it. I will accept his companionship, but only if it is truly what he wishes.”

The Dane faced the boy again. “Think carefully on this, Orli,” he said. “Do you remember what I said to you? That I would take you with me when I left and you might keep my house for me?”

Orli nodded. “You offered me honest employment,” he said.

“I must be more honest now,” Viggo said. “I find that my feelings for you have grown and changed since I have gotten to know you a bit better. You have wakened desire in me such as I have never felt and I can no longer be satisfied with a platonic arrangement. I wish to be your lover. What is your answer now?”

Orli ducked his head and the Dane’s hand went out. Cupping the boy’s chin, Viggo coaxed the onnagata to meet his eyes. To the Dane’s surprise, the dark depths swam with tears.

“Ah no!” Viggo exclaimed. “Do not cry; I beg you. I cannot stand before your tears.”

Whether it was permitted or not, the Dane took the onnagata in his arms again and held the boy close to his heart. With small, gentle kisses, Viggo did away with the tears that ran down Orli’s cheeks. Of their own accord, the Dane’s lips sought the boy’s and covered their petal softness in an expression of tender regard. Orli’s arms went around the gaijin’s neck as he responded warmly to the kiss. His lips curved in amusement at the Dane’s surprise when his tongue slid into the man’s mouth, but his humor was a brief thing as strong arms tightened around him. Viggo’s patent eagerness for more kindled a fire at the onnagata’s core that soon engulfed them both.

Lord Watanabe cleared his throat again and the couple broke apart to look somewhat dazedly at the shogun. Viggo smiled wryly and unhanded the onnagata. Orli tucked his hands back into his sleeves and studied the pattern on the carpet.

“How can I doubt that you are destined to be together?” Lord Watanabe said ruefully. “Lord Viggo, I call you cousin and ask you to treat my home and possessions as though they were your own. I would be most pleased if you would spend the remainder of your time in this country as my guest.”

The shogun removed a ring from the smallest finger of his right hand and offered it to Viggo. “Show this signet and no door will be closed to you,” Lord Watanabe said.

Viggo bowed deeply. “I am greatly honored by your generosity. If it please you, I am near dead on my feet and would lie down.”

The shogun clapped his hands and a manservant appeared. On the shogun’s orders, the servant conducted the gaijin and the onnagata to a suite of rooms. Viggo walked to the bed and collapsed onto the embroidered satin coverlet. In moments, soft snores told Orli that the man had fallen asleep.

The onnagata carefully undressed his new master and laid the clothes aside. Arranging himself comfortably amid the cushions, Orli took the Dane’s head in his lap. As he gazed upon the man’s sleeping face, he ran his fingers gently through the golden chest hair. Flattening his palm against the broad chest, Orli felt the strong heartbeat as steady as the surf crashing against the shore. The boy’s eyelids fluttered and then stayed down.

When Miyuki peeked in sometime later, she found them wrapped about one another, fast asleep. Deciding that their dinner could wait, she tiptoed away and left them in peace.

tbc


	11. Chapter Eleven: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dane is the recipient of the onnagata’s gifts and returns the favor.

A Viggo/Orlando a/u set in Shogunate Japan.  
Rated NC17 for explicit sex between two men  
Summary: The Dane is the recipient of the onnagata’s gifts and returns the favor.  
::: : :::x::: : :::x::: : :::  


Viggo woke wrapped in a warm embrace and rubbed his stubbled cheek lovingly against soft skin.

“You are awake, Viggo-san?” Orli asked softly.

Viggo’s eyes flew open and he sat up. The quality of the light told him that the sun was well up. He became abruptly aware of his unclothed state and reached for the pile of garments.

“Are you hungry?” the onnagata asked.

The Dane realized that he was starving now that his need for rest had been satisfied. “I’m very hungry indeed,” he said.

Viggo didn’t hear Orli leave, but when he turned, the boy was gone. Breathing a sigh of relief, the Dane finished dressing in a more leisurely fashion. It was odd that he felt shy of his body in front of another man, but the onnagata had that effect on him.

Orli returned wearing fresh clothing with his long hair pinned up. He carried a heavily laden tray from which he served Viggo. The man refused to let the onnagata go so far as to hand feed him, but Orli chose morsels for him and put them on his plate. As the Dane downed his fifth cup of green tea, he held up a hand.

“No more,” he said. “I am quite full. You will spoil me, Orli.”

Orli turned his head, but not before Viggo saw the beginning of a pleased smile.

“Why do you do that?” the Dane asked. “Why do you look away when you smile?”

“It is not seemly to show emotion,” the boy answered. “I have been trained to always present a serene face to the world.”

“In my presence, you may let your face be serene or not as it pleases you,” Viggo said. “You have a very charming smile and I would like to see it more often.”

“As my lord wishes,” Orli said, inclining his head.

“I do not wish to put too much strain on you right away,” Viggo said. “However, it would please me if you called me Viggo.”

“Of course… Viggo,” Orli replied.

I am getting to know the ropes here, Viggo congratulated himself, ‘tis simply a matter of phrasing my suggestions as personal preferences. The Dane hoped that someday the onnagata would break the last link in his invisible chains, but for now Viggo hoped to be clever enough to resolve any difficulties arising from the clash of their respective cultures.

“Viggo?”

“Yes?” Viggo said, after recovering from the novelty of the boy initiating conversation.

“You are rested? Your belly is full?”

“Yes and yes,” Viggo answered. “I am quite content.”

“Have you no other desires that I might satisfy?”

Two spots of red appeared on the Dane’s high cheekbones. “I am afraid I cannot be so blunt about such things, Orli,” he said. “I must work up to it in stages; do you understand?”

Orli’s velvet eyes continued to gaze into Viggo’s.

“You see,” Viggo continued. “I prefer to enjoy a good dinner with some libation and lively conversation before dimming the lights and settling in for a cuddle.”

“You wish to wait for darkness?”

“No, or rather yes. Not precisely,” Viggo replied. “Perhaps it might be better to say that I must be in the mood for… intimacy.”

“That is easy enough to arrange,” the onnagata said, his hand boldly brushing the Dane’s groin.

Viggo swayed back. “Orli, please,” he said. “Surely our host is wondering where we are.”

“I have sent a message through Miyuki to the shogun’s domo explaining your need for rest. We will not be disturbed.”

“Why are you so set on this?”

“Why do you seek to avoid it?”

Viggo sighed. “To be perfectly honest, I am nervous. I have lain with few women and no men. I do not even know how the act is really accomplished, though my sea voyages have shown me hints. I do not wish to rush headlong into this undertaking.”

Orli’s dimples appeared. “But you desire me,” he said. “You admitted as much in front of the shogun.”

“I do, boy,” the Dane affirmed, “but you must be patient with me.”

“I shall,” Orli bowed, his dimples growing deeper. “However, I believe that once you feel the spur of lust, you will take the bit in your mouth and it will be I pleading for a slower pace.”

“Do you liken me to a steed?”

“To a stallion, my lord… Viggo,” Orli said, his smile widening.

An answering smile stretched the Dane’s lips. “By God, boy, you do kindle a flame in me.”

“Then let me stoke the fire,” Orli said.

Viggo held his ground as the onnagata leaned close and brushed their lips together. The touch was brief and feather light as fleeting as the kiss of a falling leaf. The next one was more substantial. Orli pressed his mouth to the Dane’s and flicked his tongue between the man’s lips. Viggo reacted by wrapping his arms around the slender, silk draped form and pulling Orli to his chest. Eagerly, his tongue joined the tender sparring.

Orli laughed softly as their lips parted. “You see? You need not worry about trying my patience. You have the physique, reflexes and intuition of a master swordsman; you will do well at this, Viggo. I do not doubt it.”

“Do you want me?” Viggo had to ask. He had to be certain that the young man was not doing this out of gratitude and his highly developed sense of honor.

“When you kissed me in the shogun’s chambers,” Orli began before his voice trailed off.

Viggo lifted the boy’s chin on his fingers and forced Orli to meet his eyes.

Orli took a deep breath. “When you kissed me, claiming me in front of the shogun and your friend, I was so taken aback that I did not realize at first what was happening. I held on to you so hard because my knees were buckling and my insides were turning to liquid. If you had laid me down right there and taken me, I would not have stopped you.”

“So… you find me somewhat attractive?” the Dane teased gently.

“I have been with men,” the onnagata answered with brutal frankness. “I will speak of it if you wish, but for now be content to know that not one of them roused me as you do.”

“I am content indeed,” Viggo said. “May I kiss you again?”

Orli shivered at the sheer heady luxury of having his permission asked.

“Orli,” the Dane said, taking the boy by the shoulders. “Kiss me.”

The onnagata took the man’s head between his hands and pulled it forward. Their lips met in a groin-tightening collision that precipitated the wrestling of eager tongues. Orli laced his fingers through the Dane’s golden mane, cradling the man’s skull in his hands as the kiss went on. Viggo’s hands slid down the smooth fabric to the top curve of the onnagata’s firm, round buttocks and squeezed gently. Orli moaned softly into the Dane’s mouth and tightened his grip on the pale hair. Viggo pressed his hardening length against the dancer’s taut thigh and Orli moaned again. The man broke the kiss, looking down into the infinite depths of the boy’s dark eyes, unmasked by passion. He saw loneliness and a hunger for love to match his own.

“My Orli,” Viggo murmured, telling the onnagata what the boy needed to hear. “You are mine now. Only I have the right to put a hand on you. Let another try, be he lord or commoner, and he shall test my steel.”

Orli molded his length to the gaijin, letting Viggo feel his arousal as well. “This is what you do to me,” he whispered. “What will you do about it, I wonder?”

“All you will allow,” the Dane answered as he took possession of the sweet mouth again.

Viggo buried his hands in the onnagata’s wealth of sable soft hair as Orli’s hands traveled down the man’s chest. Orli undid the laces of the Dane’s loose linen shirt and slipped a hand inside. Viggo’s breath hitched as the onnagata flicked his nipple while ruffling the golden mat of hair. The boy’s other hand cupped Viggo’s crotch, caressing him through his trousers. Viggo groaned and lifted his face from the curve of Orli’s neck.

“May I remove your garments now?” the Dane asked.

Orli stepped back and lifted his arms above his head. With slow, elegant movements, he removed the jeweled clasps that held his hair back. Tossing the long locks over his shoulders, the onnagata untied the flower-like bow at his waist. Unhurriedly, he unwound the long sash of black silk embroidered with red cranes and let it fall to the floor. He shrugged the golden kimono down his shoulders to reveal the sheer white one beneath it.

Viggo found that he was holding his breath as the gold robe joined the soft pile on the floor. Orli stood backlit by the sun streaming through the window, his willowy shape clearly outlined through the shimmering, translucent silk. The Dane’s gaze traveled the length of the graceful figure, his eyes blazing with the intensity of his desire for this brave, beautiful boy. Orli unfastened a single small button and the whisper thin robe slithered to the carpet leaving the onnagata naked to the gaijin’s gaze. Viggo’s eyes dropped to the indisputable proof that the dancer was male.

To the Dane’s relief, he felt no revulsion whatsoever at the sight of Orli’s arousal. He felt quite the opposite in fact. His fingertips tingled at the thought of touching the silky-looking skin of the handsome cock. Without thinking, Viggo held out his hand in an imperious gesture and Orli moved close once again.

“I have not thanked you for saving my life,” the Dane said softly.

The onnagata looked shyly up at the man. “You have already returned the favor.”

“Then we are even?”

Orli’s eyebrows quirked upward in the middle and Viggo smiled at the charming expression of incomprehension.

“We are equal,” Viggo said, drawing the boy back into his arms.

“I will try to remember that,” Orli said, inviting a kiss.

Viggo brought their lips together gently, his mouth moving on Orli’s as though he tasted an exquisitely sweet fruit. Allowing some space between their bodies, the Dane reached for the onnagata’s shaft. Orli’s breathing grew shallow and the hot, velvety flesh pulsed in Viggo’s hand as he stroked it tentatively at first, but with increasing confidence.

“This pleases you?” Viggo asked.

“It pleases me,” Orli whispered.

“Would you like to lie upon the mattress now?”

Orli’s teeth caught at his lower lip and Viggo rephrased the question as a demand.

“Get on the mattress,” he said. “It will be more comfortable for me.”

The onnagata sank gracefully to a supine position against the banked cushions. He arranged his alabaster limbs artfully against the crimson coverlet and looked up at Viggo from under his kohl-smudged lids.

“You are a living contradiction,” the Dane said. “A demure wanton. What man could resist you? I know I cannot.”

Viggo shed his clothing and knelt upon the low mattress. Slowly, he ran his hands up the long legs from the slender ankles to the supple thighs. He continued up over the hollow flanks and the delicate cage of ribs to the elegant neck. Gently, he caressed the soft cheek before leaning in for a long, deep kiss that heated their passion to the melting point.

Orli spread his legs in clear invitation, making himself vulnerable without a trace of hesitation. “Are you ready to enter the flowery path?” he asked.

“I have never felt more eager for anything in my life,” the Dane answered.

“Then enter, my lord,” Orli said.

Viggo dropped his eyes. “I have no experience at this, but I thought that some sort of lubricant was helpful in…” The man stopped speaking at the look in Orli’s eyes. “What should I do?” he asked.

Orli showed the Dane his dimples again. “I have already prepared myself with sweet oil. If you wish to make the penetration easier for me…”

“Of course I do,” Viggo interrupted indignantly. “Who would wish otherwise?”

Orli’s look told the man Viggo would rather not know. “Put a finger into my sheath,” Orli said. “Slowly! Yes, just so. Ah, yes. I said you had good instincts. Now two fingers together. Good. Move your fingers apart a bit as you… ah… thrust. Curl your fingers a bit and… widen the entrance. Ahhh, yessss. Now I am ready for your staff.”

Viggo grasped his rock hard length with his free hand. Holding open the entrance to the onnagata’s flowery path, the Dane settled the tip of his shaft against the gleaming port. Orli moaned softly as he felt the taut head bump against his opening and his buttocks rose slightly off the mattress. The Dane’s blood fired and he pushed forward, forcing the thick cock head through the small entrance. Orli gasped as he was breached and then planted his feet to facilitate the penetration. Viggo gripped the boy’s slim hips and prepared to forge ahead, but Orli’s whimper halted the man just past the threshold.

“Am I hurting you?” the Dane asked. “You must tell me.”

“You are hurting me,” Orli said, “but you are also giving me great pleasure.”

“How can that be?”

“The pain will go away,” the onnagata said, “and the pleasure will grow. So do not stop.”

Viggo pulled back slightly and pushed back in. Again Orli made a small soft sound and his eyelids fluttered. Watching the boy’s face intently, the Dane repeated the action.

“As I said,” Orli smiled. “A master swordsman. Oh! Yes! Just there! Oh! Oh! Oh!”

The onnagata’s words deteriorated into muted, incoherent cries as the man dragged the blunt head of his cock over the onnagata’s pleasure center. Thrusting smoothly, the Dane took hold of the boy’s straining shaft and pumped it in time with his stroke. Orli’s soft whimpers were suddenly muffled and Viggo looked up from the point where they joined.

“No my Orli,” the Dane said, pulling the young man’s fist from his mouth. “Do not stifle your sounds of joy. I wish to hear them.”

“I do not think I can…”

“I will help you,” Viggo said, slowing his pace.

Orli’s subdued moans soon became cries of urgent need as the man tantalized him. Viggo teased the tip of his shaft slowly in and out of the clenching opening while trailing his fingertips lightly across the boy’s trembling inner thighs, his tight balls and weeping cock.

“Viggo!” the onnagata cried out suddenly.

“Yes, my Orli?”

“Stop this torture and give me release.”

“You have only to ask,” the Dane said.

Lifting the firm buttocks, Viggo pulled the onnagata higher on his thighs. Orli yelped as the thick shaft slid farther into his sheath and stopped. Viggo flattened his palms on the boy’s smooth chest and rubbed the raisin dark nipples with his thumbs. Orli squirmed with delight as the Dane shifted his hips, moving his long rod in the tight socket.

“Never have I felt this much pleasure,” Orli said. “Were you not such an honorable man, I might think that you were lying when you said you had never done this before.”

“I have not,” Viggo said pushing forward, “but I intend to from this day forward.”

“Unh,” Orli grunted. “No! Do not stop! Sheath your sword, my lord. Give me your steel.”

Viggo did as requested, but at a more restrained speed. He lifted one of the onnagata’s legs to his shoulder, rubbing his stubbled jaw against the sensitive skin behind the knee. Grasping Orli’s arousal again, the man stroked it steadily. Orli’s breathless cries increased in volume and he pumped his hips to the pace set by the man’s fist. Viggo groaned as the velvet vise of the boy’s sheath slid up and down the base of his engorged shaft. The heartbeats of both men pounded like the thunder of galloping hooves and their breathing grew ragged and shallow.

Viggo felt the young man’s rod throb against his palm and paused in his stroke. Orli whined low in his throat and moved his buttocks against Viggo’s thighs. The Dane gripped the onnagata’s leg tightly and leaned forward, burying his full length in the shivering boy. Orli cried out involuntarily as the long shaft sank into him and Viggo resumed his fondling.

“I love doing this with you,” the Dane murmured in his native tongue as he looked on the onnagata’s lovely face transfigured by his joy. “You were worth the entire journey.”

Orli heard the emotion behind the unfamiliar words and put both feet on the mattress. Bracing himself, the onnagata lifted his buttocks, meeting Viggo’s next thrust halfway. The Dane withdrew and Orli adjusted the tilt of his pelvis as the thick cock entered him again. The curved shaft rubbed against the young man’s sweet spot in passing and intensified his pleasure. Viggo fell into the rhythm set by the onnagata, stroking him inside and out.

“Ah, yes!” Orli moaned. “That is perfect, Viggo.”

“I agree,” the Dane said hoarsely, as the boy’s opening spasmed strongly on the swollen base of his cock.

The lean muscles of Orli’s thighs and calves flexed as he pumped his hips in tandem with Viggo’s thrusts, partners in a pulse-pounding race to release. Viggo stroked the young man’s arousal faster as he pressed his free hand against the taut belly in an instinctive attempt to increase the stimulation. Orli threw back his head, his back arching as his shaft erupted in a pearly stream. His heels slipped on the satin coverlet as he shuddered through a powerful climax, his sheath clamping on the Dane’s aching arousal.

Viggo continued to caress the seed-slippery shaft as it twitched in his fist, his fingertips digging into the soft skin of the boy’s abdomen as the snug socket contracted. Rolling his hips, the Dane stirred the narrow channel, extending the young man’s time in heaven as he drew closer to the gates with each thrust into the onnagata’s shaking body. Orli moaned helplessly as the big cock plunged into him, filling him perfectly with each forceful thrust. Abruptly, Viggo lodged his straining length deep inside the onnagata and cried out harshly in release. The Dane ground his groin into the young man’s pelvis as his cock jerked and spurted in the clinging sheath. Possessed by overwhelming bliss, Viggo clung to Orli as he gasped for breath. The chill of all the years he had spent alone evaporated from his mind.

Orli moved restlessly and the Dane felt the ridge of the boy’s hard cock dig into his belly. Rolling to the side, Viggo quickly disengaged and reached for the onnagata’s arousal. Welding his lips to the young man’s, the Dane eased two fingers into the slippery sheath as he stroked Orli’s hard flesh. The onnagata wriggled against the satin as the man solicitously tended to his pleasure. In moments, the young man crested, spending another load of seed over Viggo’s fingers. The Dane propped himself on one elbow and gazed down at the breathless, glowing beauty. Orli’s eyes opened and fixed on Viggo’s.

“You have the oddest look on your face,” the onnagata said.

“Do I? What sort of look is it?”

“You look very… not like a warrior.”

Viggo smiled lazily. “Is that a good thing?”

“For the bedchamber? Yes, it is a very good thing,” Orli answered.

Viggo hand went out automatically as the boy stretched languidly. Orli arched into the man’s caress like a pampered cat before settling back to the mattress. The Dane marveled at the smoothness of the skin under his hand as his fingers slid downward.

“What is in your mind, my lord?” Orli asked coyly as the man stroked his thigh.

“I was thinking that even if I did not learn the secrets of Japanese swordsmiths, my voyage to the East could hardly be called wasted time. But I did hope that Lee might teach me.”

Orli’s slumberous eyes widened and he sat up. “Forgive me, but I forgot. Lee-san gave me something for safekeeping when the fortress was overrun.”

“What is it?” Viggo asked curiously

“I do not know,” the boy admitted. “There was not time to look at it.”

“Where is it?”

“I left it somewhere secure,” Orli said evasively.

“You sound reluctant to tell me. Surely you trust me now.”

“I trust you,” Orli said. “Do you trust me?”

tbc


	12. Chapter Twelve: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

A Viggorli a/u set in Shogunate Japan.  
Rated NC17 for graphic descriptions of male/male sexual situations.  
This is a work of complete fiction.  
Thank you Piper and Jean.  
dbqpdbqpdbqpdbqpdb  


Viggo rose from the bed and began to dress. “Tell me how you escaped the mercenaries and returned to Kyoto,” he requested.

Orli donned his garments and began to pin up his hair, keeping his eyes on the mirror. “Dancing Tiger gave his life so I could escape,” the boy said. “I have not yet told Keanu-san how his brother died, but he will be proud I think. As for me, I ran and ran, and then I ran some more. When I could not run another step, I covered myself with leaves and waited for darkness. I followed the river until I came to the city. It was not so easy as I make it sound, but it is not my journey to Kyoto that you wish to hear about, is it?”

Orli turned from the glass. “I made my way to the home of a patron of Kabuki, a man I had met many times at the theater. He gave me shelter and told no one of my presence.”

Viggo’s expression was neutral when he spoke. “He sounds like a very kind and generous man,” the Dane said. “Not many would defy their ruler for the sake of an acquaintance.”

“He is a great admirer of my dancing,” Orli said.

“I am certain he is,” Viggo replied.

“Your words are innocuous, but your tone is insinuating,” Orli said. “What is it that you truly wish to say, Viggo?”

Not fair, the Dane thought. When the boy said Viggo’s name in his charming accent, the Dane could only concentrate on one thing. Viggo willed his unruly organ to subside and tried to stop his runaway thoughts.

“I am not making a judgment,” the Dane said carefully. “If there were things you had to do to survive, I will understand.”

Orli’s face stiffened. “You will understand,” he repeated bitterly. “Tell me how it is that you could understand what it feels like to trade your flesh for survival.”

“Perhaps I cannot feel your suffering,” Viggo answered, “but I will stand by you.”

“Despite the fact that I am a whore without honor?”

“I did not say that,” the Dane protested.

“You assumed I would trade sexual favors for room and board,” the boy said.

Viggo stared at Orli, speechless at the rapidity with which the afterglow had faded. He could not believe they had been lying in one another’s arms mere minutes ago. How had his words been so grievously misinterpreted? Silently, the Dane shook his head.

“Let us go retrieve Lee-san’s legacy,” he said stiffly.

In the front hall, they met Keanu going in with a great bouquet of peonies.

“Where are you going, Viggo?” Keanu asked.

“To fetch something Orli left behind,” Viggo answered somewhat curtly.

Keanu studied his friend’s face for a moment and then called out to Masahiro. The young samurai left his post at the front door in obedience to the new warlord.

“Make sure that these reach your cousin’s hands,” Keanu said, thrusting the mass of flowers into the warrior’s arms. “I will accompany you, Viggo-san.”

“It is not necessary,” Viggo answered and then looked to the onnagata. “Is it, Orli?”

“I do not mind if the warlord wishes to come with us,” Orli said.

The onnagata led the way to a small, elegant mansion whose value was in the considerable amount of land that surrounded it. Viggo recognized the garden as the one he and the onnagata had run through the day they had fled the theater. The Dane’s eye roved appreciatively over the meticulously tended foliage that differed somehow from the other gardens he’d visited in the Orient. The owner answered the door, and Viggo was shocked to a westerner, well into his seventies. The Kabuki patron’s hair was a silvery stubble on his fragile-looking skull but his bright blue eyes twinkled with vitality. A smile brightened his face when he saw Orli.

“Welcome,” he said. “Please come in.”

After listening to Orli for a few minutes, the man turned and spoke to Viggo in Danish.

“I am Sir Ian McKellen, a Scottish knight,” the man said. “Orli has told me most of this fascinating story and I am pleased to meet you. The boy is very . . . precious and I am grateful to you for saving his life.”

“He saved my life as well,” Viggo answered in Japanese so that Keanu and Orli could understand the conversation.

Sir Ian smiled wryly. “You seem as honorable as Orli described you,” he said. “Perhaps you are worthy to pluck this bloom.”

“That is not for you to say, sir,” Viggo replied. “Orli has made his decision.”

“Put your fur down,” Sir Ian chuckled. “And forgive me for testing you, but as I said, Orli is precious to me”

“He is precious to me as well,” Viggo said firmly.

Sir Ian spoke again in Danish. “If you need to hear it, I swear to you on my honor as a gentleman that I have not compromised the onnagata’s honor by more than a lingering look.”

“You shame me,” the Dane said. “I should have trusted the boy.”

“Yes you bloody well should have,” Ian said, and switched back to Japanese. “Please make yourselves comfortable,” he said. “I will fetch the bundle that Orli left with me.”

“Orli,” Keanu said, when Ian had gone. “Forgive me for doubting you.”

Viggo looked at the young samurai in surprise and then added his apology. “Please forgive me as well. You have never given me reason to doubt you. I have no excuse for my stupidity, but I beg your pardon.”

“I will excuse you both,” Orli said. “However, in the future perhaps you will believe what your hearts tell you instead of letting prejudice lead you to conclusions.”

“You are too clever for me,” Keanu said, inclining his head respectfully to the onnagata. “Had I known that dancers were as wise as monks, I might have attended more plays.”

“Perhaps you will take Miyuki,” Orli said.

“Women are not allowed,” Keanu began.

“You are a warlord now,” Orli said. “Start a new fashion.”

Keanu looked to Viggo. “Is he serious?” the samurai said.

“He is not much given to jests in my experience,” the Dane said.

“Here it is,” Ian said as he entered.

The old man carried a leather satchel with bone toggles and a long well worn strap. Ian carried the bag to Orli and put it on the boy’s lap. Orli gazed at it for a moment before glancing at Viggo.

“Go ahead,” the Dane said. “You kept it safe. You deserve to open it.”

Orli unfastened the clasps and pulled the straps through the buckles. He opened the flap and reached inside. All eyes were on the boy as he drew forth a large leather bound journal. Orli lifted the cover and read the script in the middle of the first page.

“This is Lee’s journal from his forge,” Orli said.

Ian read over the onnagata’s shoulder. “It contains his formulae and methods for working metal,” the elder said.

Viggo’s eyes widened and he touched a hand reverently to the stained leather of the satchel. “This is priceless,” he said softly.

“Indeed,” Keanu said. “I wish to return to my brother’s fortress and tend his remains. Would you accompany me, Viggo-san?”

“Of course, my friend,” Viggo answered. “If you don’t mind one more companion. I have grown accustomed to the onnagata’s company.”

“Orli is most welcome,” Keanu said with a slight bow in the boy’s direction.

“It seems you have made some more friends,” Ian said to the onnagata.

Orli dropped his eyes demurely and Ian smiled.

“You see,” the old man said. “There are those who see you as more than an erotic fantasy made flesh.”

“As you told me many times,” Orli said humbly.

“I know you are a worthwhile human being,” Ian said. “Maybe you are beginning to believe it too. If this Norseman is the cause, I am glad for you.”

“He is a good man,” Orli said as he stood. “Thank you for your hospitality. You have always been a good friend to me. I hope that it will always be so.”

Ian’s eyes closed briefly as the onnagata swayed forward and kissed his cheek. When the old man’s eyes opened, he focused them on Viggo. “I do not flatter myself that I could best you in a physical contest,” Ian said, “but I am a wealthy man. If you hurt Orli, I will hire men to teach you better manners.”

“Your point is taken, sir,” Viggo said gravely. “Thank you.”

Ian nodded and watched with mingled joy and regret as the onnagata walked out of his life.

V/O\V/O\V/O\V/O\V/O\V/O\V/O\V/O\V/O\V/O\V/O\V/O\V/O\V

The jingle of harness woke Viggo and he looked up at the beautiful face hanging over him. The gelding shook its head again, showering the Dane with droplets of water. A soft laugh brought the man’s head around to the right. Orli sat with his legs tucked under, a smile lighting his features as he watched the horse nuzzle Viggo awake.

“Lazy gaijin,” Keanu said, toeing the Dane’s ribs from the other side. “Asleep in the middle of the day. Get up. We have a journey to finish.”

Viggo grasped the samurai’s ankle and in the next instant, Keanu landed on his backside. The astonished look on Keanu’s face shocked a peal of laughter from the onnagata and the gelding shied. Orli moved gracefully from the animal’s path, inadvertently putting himself into Keanu’s. Instead of bear-hugging the Dane, the samurai ended up atop Viggo with his arms wrapped around Orli who was sandwiched between. Unable to resist, the Dane dug his fingers into the layers of the onnagata’s clothing and found the boy’s ribs. Keanu was taken aback when Orli abruptly began struggling frantically to escape, and the samurai instinctively held on tighter.

“No!” Orli gasped. “Stop! Please! Viggo! No!”

Seeing what the game was, Keanu let go and stood back from the entwined couple. He smiled wryly at the slight stir of his manhood as his body remembered the feel of the onnagata wriggling in his arms. Viggo was a man to envy, Keanu thought, as he spoke.

“Viggo-san, I have an urge to ride ahead. The fortress is not far now and I am anxious to find Jet’s body, or what the scavengers have left of it, and I would rather do it alone.”

Viggo stopped tickling the onnagata, but held the boy captive against his chest. “Are you certain?” he asked.

Keanu nodded. “I wish to sit with my brother for a while before we bury him.”

“Very well,” Viggo said with alacrity. The mock-wrestling bout had a tangible effect on him that was currently pressed tantalizingly between the onnagata’s firm buttocks. The mental image of himself astride Orli on this bed of moss surrounded by sentinel evergreens made the Dane anxious to see Keanu’s back.

“Take some rest,” Keanu said with a straight face as he swung into the saddle. “I will tend to Jet and have a look around the forge. Meet me there.”

Viggo nodded, the intoxicating scent of the onnagata’s hair filling his nostrils. “Soon,” he said, as Keanu lifted a hand and rode on to the fortress.

Viggo threw a leg over Orli’s thigh and buried his face in the nape of the boy’s neck. Orli stretched and all but purred as the man rubbed his stubble against sensitive skin.

“What does my lord desire?” the boy asked in an onnagata’s velvet voice.

“You,” Viggo breathed. “Would this be an acceptable bed?”

Orli rolled so that he lay atop the Dane. “This would,” he answered.

Viggo surrendered to the onnagata’s skilled hands and mouth as his trousers were unlaced and he was aroused to the point that he thought he would explode at any moment. He pulled lightly on the boy’s curls and Orli raised his face from the Dane’s crotch.

“You are magnificent,” the onnagata said, running his fingers through the golden thatch at the man’s groin. “Like a tiger in his pride, so powerful and so . . . large.”

Viggo groaned as slim fingers squeezed his aching erection.

“Look,” Orli said. “My fingers will barely meet around this spear.”

“For pity’s sake,” the Dane gasped. “Stop toying with me.”

“I am not toying with you,” Orli said. “We have not the time for that, but soon, when we are settled, I will show you all the skills of an onnagata.”

The Dane shivered at this promise. “I hope my stamina is equal to the challenge,” he said. “Is it permitted to touch you now?”

Orli shook his head as he looped the hem of his robe through the sash. “I shall trade you favor for favor. You shall teach me your trade and I shall teach you mine.”

“You wish to learn to make swords?”

Orli shook his head again. “I wish to learn to use one,” he said as he lubricated himself.

Viggo watched in fascination as the boy’s oiled fingers disappeared into his body. “It will be my pleasure to teach you,” he said somewhat distractedly.

“I could say the same,” the onnagata murmured as he grasped Viggo’s upstanding rod.

The Dane’s breath hissed in through his teeth as Orli slowly lowered himself onto the straining arousal. Placing his palms flat against the ground, the boy rocked gently, forward and back and side to side. His long hair fell to pool on the moss on either side of Viggo’s head, curtaining the man in a private world of pleasure.

Viggo moaned hoarsely as his cock was rhythmically enveloped and released. The Dane’s toes curled inside his boots as the waves of bliss mounted, rippling outward from his groin to fill his entire body with pleasure. Orli’s hair trailed across the broad chest leaving a wake of erotic sparks as his tight heat massaged the hard length of flesh.

Rising to a squatting position, the onnagata braced his hands against the man’s lightly furred pectorals and bore down. Viggo groaned deep in his throat as he was driven to the point of no return. Orli felt the thick shaft pulse in his sheath and pumped faster.

The Dane cried out as his release was ignited like a pot of gunpowder. Lifting his hips, the man thrust as his seed erupted, unspooling deep inside the snug channel. Orli pressed down, grinding against the man, milking the twitching shaft of every drop of cum. Unable to keep his arms at his sides any longer, Viggo reached up and pulled the boy down to his chest.

Orli let the sated rod slide from his socket as the man rolled him over. Viggo rested on his elbows, his softening shaft pressed to the onnagata’s arousal. The boy’s expression was impossible to read as he looked up at the Dane.

“You did not find joy,” Viggo said euphemistically. It would be some time before he was comfortable with Orli’s frankness about sex.

“I am content,” Orli said.

“And if I wish to . . . release you?” the Dane asked, shifting his hips.

Orli’s breath caught as the man’s pubic pelt brushed across his hard flesh.

“I am yours,” the onnagata said. “You may do as you like.”

“I would rather do as you like,” Viggo said, flexing his buttocks.

“Please, my . . . Please, Viggo,” Orli whimpered.

“What is it, boy?” Viggo teased, delighted at the sound of his name on Orli’s lips. “Am I having an affect on you?”

Orli bit his lower lip as the springy, golden curls at the man’s groin scrubbed against his arousal. The sensation was exquisite; the gaijin learned fast, as Orli had predicted. Now the Dane was using the onnagata’s own weapons against him. Orli wanted to give himself completely and without artifice, but it was hard for him to let go of the role he had performed for so long. Unable to find words, the boy remained silent.

Viggo’s fair brows disappeared under his shaggy bangs. “So I may do as I like? Very well, then, I have never suckled a man’s organ and I am pleased to satisfy my curiosity now.”

Orli’s hands clenched into fists on the mossy turf as the man’s mouth closed around the head of his cock. The onnagata found it hard to comprehend the idea of a warrior who enjoyed the giving of pleasure as much as the receiving of it. In the years before he had become established and had a say in who bedded him, Orli had *entertained* a number of men. Few had shown the slightest interest in reciprocating the pleasure he gave.

Viggo stroked the onnagata’s trembling flanks as he bobbed his head slowly on the stiff shaft. With gentle touches, the Dane soothed the tense muscles, coaxing the boy to relax. He’d suspected that the rapturous, seamless union of their first joining had been a bit too idyllic. It came to him later that the boy had been performing for him.

The Dane had been hurt at first, but then upbraided himself for his touchy pride. Why should he expect the onnagata to change in an instant as though a wand had been waved? A little more patience was what was needed now. He believed in his heart that Orli cared for him and in time would respond naturally.

Relinquishing the young man’s arousal long enough to wet his fingers, Viggo nudged delicately at Orli’s nether port. The furled aperture glistened with oil and spent seed and the Dane’s callused digit eased smoothly into the dimpled opening. The elastic ring of muscle tightened as Viggo worked his finger farther into the velvet heat.

Orli moaned involuntarily when the blunt fingertip dragged across his susceptible spot. Viggo stopped, pressed harder and rubbed small circles on the resilient flesh. The boy’s mouth fell open in a silent cry as a bolt of sheer pleasure galvanized his body. The Dane engulfed the onnagata’s straining erection, sucking hard as he teased the taut tip with his tongue. Orli’s pelvis moved of its own volition, thrusting his cock into the man’s mouth.

Viggo nearly gagged, recovered and then fell into the rhythm set by the onnagata’s pumping hips. Diligently, he attended to the boy’s pleasure, prompted by the cues of small cries and whimpers. Curling his finger into a hook, he stroked the interior spot that made Orli writhe against the flower-starred emerald moss. Caressing the young man’s pulsing rod with his free hand, Viggo whispered encouragement to his lover.

“Cum for me, my Orli,” the Dane said. “I wish to see your cheeks all rosy and your eyes sparkling just for me. Do you understand? I do this for my pleasure as well as yours. Nothing could please me more than to see you climax and know that I was the cause.”

The man’s words chipped away the last layer of the wall around Orli’s heart. Like a bursting dam, the emotion he had pent up broke free in a flood of tears. Moisture filled his eyes and overflowed, running down his temples to wet his hair.

“Do not weep, my love,” Viggo said softly.

With a piercing cry, Orli climaxed without reservation or artifice for the first time since he was a virgin. His hips bucked off the ground, his back arching into a bow as he filled Viggo’s fist with thick, creamy liquid. The Dane wrapped his arms around the young man’s thighs and buried his face in the warm crotch. Orli whimpered as the man licked away every trace of seed and sweat while gently kneading his buttocks. The tender attentions eased the boy down from the soaring pinnacle of pleasure to an enervated euphoria.

Looking up from his pleasant task, Viggo let his eyes dwell on the onnagata’s face transformed by release. The mask-like quality of the lovely features was gone, softened by the flames of desire. The sculpted lips, usually folded primly, were softly parted on a sigh of fulfillment. Abruptly the sated, somnolent eyes opened wide and focused on something over Viggo’s head.

Viggo turned quickly, but saw nothing untoward. “What is it?” he asked.

“I saw eyes,” Orli said, sitting up. “Watching us from the forest.”

tbc


	13. Epilogue: baileymoyes — LiveJournal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy endings all around.

A Viggorli A/U set in Shogunate Japan.  
Summary: Happy endings all around.  
Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction.  
Feedback: Thanks to all that have stuck with this story. You have been most kind and generous with your comments.

::: :: :::

Keanu picked his way carefully around a miniature landslide and proceeded up the steep slope. Grabbing a stunted pine, he pulled himself up until he stood beside the eastern wall of the fortress. He was certain he stood on the spot the onnagata had described, but there was no sign of a body, not even bones scattered by scavengers.

The samurai looked up at the top of the wall and then back down the mountain. Unless the boy was too confused by the ordeal to remember where Jet had fallen, Keanu was in the right place. The warlord trusted the onnagata’s recollection and assumed that the raiders must have taken the body away. Sitting down on a boulder, Keanu gazed across the ravine.

The young warlord remembered how cruel his half-brother had been to him when they were boys growing up without a father. Keanu had resented, even hated Jet at times. Now he knew that he would not have survived in society if his sibling had not made him tough.

Jet had been so proud to be a samurai. Everyone expected that the exceptional swordsman would bring much glory to his daimyo. Instead, Jet had denounced his master, but had been unable to prove his allegations. The young samurai had become a ronin and shortly after, tales of a bandit known as Dancing Tiger began to circulate. Keanu had been concerned only with how Jet’s actions reflected on him, but now he saw the terribly irony of his brother’s life. Now… when there was no possibility of telling Jet that Keanu understood his actions at last. Keanu put his face in his hands and wept for what was lost forever.

Some time later, the warlord rose and wiped his eyes. Squaring his shoulders, he composed his face into a warrior’s mask and left that sorrowful spot. As he moved closer to the wall, the sun gleamed on something half-buried in the earth. Keanu stooped and picked up the object, turning it over on his palm. He held a key of brass, or some other gold-colored metal, on a chain. It was the length of his hand with a thick barrel and oddly notched teeth. Keanu examined it curiously before tucking it into his tunic and heading back to the front of the fortress. When he reached the gate, Keanu looked down the steep and winding road, but saw no sign of his companions. He entered the courtyard and called out, receiving no answer. The samurai hoped Viggo-san was enjoying himself.

Smiling, Keanu began to search the fortress for the door that fit the key.

)X(@)X(@)X(@)X(@)X(@)X(@)X(@)X(

Viggo drew his sword and motioned to Orli to stay where he was. The onnagata watched with wide eyes as the man faded into the undergrowth. A few moments later, Orli heard a commotion and leapt to his feet. Ignoring his master’s orders, the boy ran toward the sounds. Orli stopped in his tracks and the worried look evaporated from his features. Viggo was entangled in the torn, filthy robes of a very angry wizard. A peal of laughter escaped Orli’s throat. The Dane and Lee lifted their heads in the direction of the merry noise and it ceased instantly. The onnagata dropped to his knees beside the old man and reached out.

“Master,” the boy said. “What happened to your eyes?”

Lee released his stranglehold on Viggo’s neck and the Dane relaxed. It had been difficult to keep from hurting the old man while trying to break his hold. Lee was ancient, but he put up a hell of a fight.

“Orli?” the wizard said doubtfully.

“It is I, Master,” Orli said, touching the blackened flesh around the old man’s eyes. “Did the raiders do this to you?”

To Orli and Viggo’s shock, Lee cackled with mirth. “I did this to me,” he said. “I had many surprises prepared for anyone who breached the walls of the fortress,” the wizard said. “They worked perfectly, which was both fortunate and unfortunate. I was too close when one of my little presents was opened.”

“Can you not see at all?”

“Not even the glow of your beauty can pierce the darkness I dwell in,” Lee said with a gentle smile. “Do not grieve too much for me. I have seen many things and I remember them all.”

Tears coursed down the onnagata’s cheeks, but he made not a sound that Lee might hear. “We have come to do honor to the souls of Dancing Tiger and yourself,” the boy said. “You have ruined our plans by not being dead.”

Lee smiled gently. “I have laid stones over the body of Dancing Tiger and said the appropriate words, but I am certain his spirit would welcome a visit from you.”

Orli helped the old man up and Viggo got him into the saddle of his horse.

“We can ride double,” the Dane told the boy.

Orli climbed on his mount and Viggo swung up behind him. Taking up the reins of the other horse, the Dane kneed his steed into a walk. Leading Master Lee, they headed for the fortress. Orli found he enjoyed the forced closeness of his position and the way the motion of the horse’s gait moved Viggo’s body against his.

“I would like to go riding with you again,” the boy said softly.

“Would you indeed? We will have to see to purchasing a suitable mount for you.”

“I do not need my own horse,” Orli said.

“I can afford it,” the Dane assured him.

“I prefer riding with you.”

Viggo frowned and then a smile curved his lips. He tightened his arm around the boy’s midsection and kissed the nape of his neck. “I enjoy this as well,” he murmured.

“Does it remind you of anything, my lord?” the onnagata purred.

“I am afraid it does. When I dismount, I fear my reaction to your nearness will stick out like a sore thumb.”

Orli stifled a giggle. “Somewhat farther than a thumb, I think,” he answered.

“Minx,” the Dane said. “You are shameless.”

“If to be honest is to have no shame then you are right, Viggo-san,” Lee spoke up.

Viggo’s cheeks burned as he turned in the saddle to look at the wizard. “Forgive our indiscretion,” he said.

Lee smiled. “How could I be offended by an honest expression of love?”

The Dane’s mouth fell open. Lee spoke as if he could still see.

“This surprises you? Think, man. You have gone so far as to lay with Orli; never mind how I can tell. Do you think you would do so if you did not love him?”

“I think you see much for a man who claims to be blind,” Viggo said. “Perhaps we could discuss this at another time.”

“As you wish,” Lee said equably.

Orli said nothing, but he put his fingers over the man’s where they rested on his abdomen. Without thinking, the Dane pulled the boy closer to his chest as he urged the horses to a faster pace. Lee tightened his grip on the pommel, a small smile lighting his face.

>>>+<<< O >>>+<<< O >>>+<<< O >>>+<<< O >>>+<<< O >>>+<<< O >>>+<<<

Keanu was sitting on the parapet in the sun, sipping from an exquisitely painted porcelain cup, when his friends passed through the gate.

“Welcome,” he called down expansively.

Viggo looked up in surprise. “You are merry,” he said.

“I have farewelled my brother and made peace with his spirit,” Keanu said. “Now I am celebrating his entry into heaven. Come up and join me. Bring the old man.”

Lee snorted. “You are still a disrespectful pup,” he said. “I will come up and I will teach you better manners.”

Keanu laughed. “I will stand patiently under the strokes of your cane, Master. Come up.”

Viggo jumped down and caught Orli as the boy slid from the saddle. Lee dismounted on his own and they climbed the steep steps to the top of the thick wall. The sight that met their eyes made them gape in disbelief. Keanu sat upon a rug of priceless weave surrounded by objects that gleamed with gold and sparkled with countless gems in the sunlight. Jade, ivory, silk and many other rich textures gave back the glow of the sun, as they lay scattered across the rough stone.

“What is this?” Viggo exclaimed. “You leave us as a warlord and we find an emperor.”

“You found Tiger’s trove?” Lee asked.

Keanu leaped to his feet and came to the old man. “Master,” the samurai said in concern. “What has happened to you?”

“Naught I did not deserve,” Lee said impatiently. “Did you find that rascal’s secret treasure room, or not?”

“I did,” Keanu said. “There was a key in the grass outside the walls. While I waited, I searched for the lock it would fit.”

“And where was it?”

Keanu came closer. “Can you not guess?” he smirked.

Orli’s nose wrinkled as he caught a whiff of the pungent odor rising from the warrior. “You smell as if you have been swimming in the middens,” the onnagata said primly.

Viggo made a face of disgust. “Phew! Orli is right. You smell like shite!”

Lee chuckled. “Clever bastard,” he said. “Dancing Tiger would never reveal where he hid the spoils of his criminal career. He said nothing good could come of ill-gotten riches.”

“He was a stern man,” Keanu said, “and he was true to his principles.”

“Even when it hurt him,” Lee agreed. “I am glad the two of you are no longer at odds.”

Keanu sighed. “I wish I could see him once more to tell him to his face.”

“You will,” Lee smiled. “Though whether or not he will have a face or any kind of physical body, I cannot say.”

The young warlord returned the old man’s gentle smile. “I know this is an awkward moment to ask, but I have a new household that lacks a wizard. You seem to be in need of a position. Is it possible you would grace my home?”

“I shall give it my most serious consideration,” Lee said. “Since you are so wealthy now.”

Keanu laughed aloud. “What you see here is not even a hundredth of what I found. We are all wealthy.”

“I have a request for Master Lee,” Viggo said. “I wish to finish my education in the art of folding steel. Will you teach me, master?”

Lee inclined his head in the direction of Viggo’s voice. “It would be my honor to pass on my knowledge.”

“You shall come to live on my estate until you are ready to leave Japan,” Keanu said. “We shall build the finest forge ever seen.”

Viggo and Orli stared at the warlord.

“If it pleases you,” Keanu added.

“It did not take long for the power to go to his head, did it?” Viggo asked the onnagata.

Orli raised a hand to hide his smile, but let it drop back to his side. Viggo wrapped the boy’s fingers in his own and squeezed them in a gesture meant to convey pride and encouragement.

“A rapid elevation often clouds the weaker mind,” the onnagata said softly.

Keanu stared at the boy for a moment and then joined the laughter. “You have found a rare gem indeed, Viggo-San,” the samurai said. “Guard him well lest covetousness lead another to steal him from you.”

“That cannot happen,” Orli said firmly. “I would not go.”

“And how would you stop an abduction?” Keanu teased, lunging suddenly at the boy.

Orli swayed aside without shifting his feet and the warlord’s impetus carried him past his target. The onnagata threw his hip into the samurai’s and Keanu tumbled to the ground. The warrior rolled quickly to his feet and gawked at the slender dancer.

“Did you think that Jet and I were drinking tea the entire time I was here?” Orli asked innocently.

“You are full of surprises,” Keanu said. “I think I shall take care to keep to your good side.”

“You are wise, my lord,” the onnagata said with a graceful bow.

“Do not bandy words with him, brother,” Viggo said to the samurai. “Once he realized he had a tongue, he honed it to a razor’s sharpness. When I have taught him to use a sword, there will be no standing against him.”

“Formidable indeed,” Master Lee said.

Keanu bowed to Orli in return. “I thank you for the lesson,” the warlord said. “Never again will I judge by appearance.”

“Thank you for showing me that there are still men of honor in this world,” the onnagata said in a voice fragile with emotion.

To Viggo’s astonishment, the uncompromising warlord got on one knee and took Orli’s hand in his. Looking up at the onnagata’s tear-bright eyes, Keanu made a pledge.

“This may not mean aught to you, but it is my right as head of my house to adopt cousins. I extend my hand to you as to a member of my family. Do you accept?”

“I have no word large enough to tell you what this means to me,” Orli replied. “I will simply say that I would be honored.”

Keanu rose, and with a glance at Viggo for permission, embraced the onnagata as a brother.

“I am very proud of you,” Master Lee told Keanu. “If you have been waiting to hear this accolade, let me be the first to call you a man.”

“Now it is I who am honored,” Keanu said.

“If our futures are settled, I will have some of that plum wine I can smell,” Lee said.

The four disparate companions sat upon the wall and drank plum wine in the sunshine until they were giddy as boys let out early from lessons. In the morning, they returned to Kyoto and Keanu sent some of his new staff to catalogue and pack up some of the contents of the fortress. Later, the warlord intended to refurbish the castle as a summer dwelling.

The forge was set up at Keanu’s country estate and many were the arduous yet happy hours that Viggo spent under Lee’s strict tutelage, learning to make the katana and adding to the old man’s journal. The newly titled Lady Miyuki spent much time in private with the onnagata insuring that she would have the most contented husband in all Japan. Keanu was kept busy being head of the house, as well as by his duties to his daimyo.

The day came when the Dane forged his first daisho set of katana and wakizashi and the warlord hosted a celebration to mark the achievement. The friends whose bond had been formed in peril made merry, but they knew that their time together was drawing to an end. On a fresh spring day when Lady Miyuki was directing the servants in packing for the journey to the mountains, Viggo came to see Keanu in the samurai’s private garden.

Seeing the warlord kneeling with bowed head before his family shrine, the Dane waited in respectful silence until Keanu rose. “My friend,” Viggo said. “It is time.”

Keanu nodded. “I felt it in my bones. When the ice melted in the stream and I saw the first buds, I knew you would be going soon.”

“The roads to the coast will be passable now,” Viggo confirmed. “As much as I have enjoyed my time with you, my home calls to me.”

“You will come back,” the samurai said confidently. “You belong here, my brother, and one day your heart will see that. On that day, I will welcome you to your true home.”

Keanu’s gaze flicked to Viggo’s left and he smiled. “Although it may be as Master Lee says and you carry your true home with you wherever you roam.”

“Master Lee is too wise for a simple smith like me,” Viggo said. “I hope I shall return some day. Perhaps by then I will have thought of the right words to tell you what your friendship means to me and of my gratitude for all you have given me.”

“No such words are necessary,” Keanu said. “Come closer, Orli. Remember, this is your home as well.”

Viggo turned in surprise, and then held out a hand to the onnagata. Orli came forward to stand beside the Dane and Viggo’s arms went around the boy’s slim waist. By now, the young man had conquered his ingrained reaction to such unseemly public displays, but it was still difficult for him to respond naturally. However, when Orli did react, Viggo’s obvious delight was strong incentive to do so again. It fascinated the Dane that one who was so confident in the bedchamber could be so shy out of it.

“So you will take our fairest flower with you,” Keanu said to Viggo.

“Do not let Yuki hear you say that,” Orli cautioned.

“My wife knows her value in my eyes,” Keanu said confidently.

Orli shook his head. “Your opinion of your wife’s self-esteem is commendable, but I urge you to remind her of how beautiful she is in your eyes.”

Keanu inclined his head. “I thank you for the advice. Of course I meant that you are the fairest of our youths.”

“Master Lee has managed to teach you some subtlety, I see,” Viggo chuckled.

“I am greatly indebted to him,” Keanu acknowledged. “I burn incense for the gods daily in thanks for his presence here. Running an estate involves more than I had imagined.”

“You will do well,” Viggo said. “When I return I expect you will be shogun.”

Keanu shuddered. “How have I offended you that you would lay such a curse on me?”

So with laughter the friends parted. As the buds on the cherry trees swelled, Viggo and Orli took the road to the harbor. They rode fine steeds and led packhorses laden with gifts that could not be refused. Passage was booked aboard a fast ship with sails like a gull’s wings and a colorful captain called Barbossa. Their goods were stowed, the anchor was weighed and the sleek ship sped away from shore.

Viggo and Orli stood in the stern, looking over the rail at the island of Japan shrinking into the distance. The Dane stood behind the boy, strong arms wrapped around the willowy body, protecting him from the wind and offering comfort. Orli’s home looked like an emerald on a sheet of beaten silver in the early morning light, a gem for the diadem of the Queen of the Ocean.

“I know ‘tis hard to leave behind all you know,” Viggo said in the onnagata’s ear.

Orli clasped the man’s wrists where they crossed over his waist. “Not everything,” he said.

“Will I be enough to replace all that?” the Dane wondered.

Orli turned in the circle of the man’s arms, turning his back on the last sight of his home. “How can you doubt it?” he asked. “Have I not shown you in every way known to me that you are my life? Tell me how I may convince you that this is my choice.”

“Kiss me,” Viggo said.

The onnagata’s gaze automatically darted left and right, checking for onlookers. In the midst of his prudish search, he realized what he was doing and stopped. His eyes rose to Viggo’s and he offered his mouth provocatively. Viggo had asked the boy to kiss him, but looking at the sweet lips parted so invitingly convinced him not to quibble. Orli was willing to kiss him in broad daylight with a ship’s crew working around them and the Dane would count that as the victory it was. To celebrate, Viggo gave the onnagata a kiss that made them both see fireworks.

“Have I convinced you, my lord?” Orli asked with a touch of his old coyness.

“I am still not sure,” Viggo teased. “Come below and I will listen to more persuasion.”

Orli’s soft laugh tightened the Dane’s balls. In sudden haste, Viggo grasped the boy’s biceps and pulled him toward their cabin. As they entered, the onnagata gave the man’s buttocks a healthy squeeze and the Dane shut the door with a bang.

Handsome first mate Jack turned to a strapping sailor with a knowing smirk. “Batten your hatches, Bootstrap,” he said. “I wager ‘tis going to be an interestin’ voyage.”

Sayonara and Bon Voyage.


End file.
